Doctor Oobleck listened in full and then removed his glasses to rub at his eyes. He set them down, pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled shallowly. "It is good you came to me with this," he said, without looking up, "But I dearly wish you had spared me the explicit details of the dreams of several of my students." Under his breath, he muttered, "I'm not sure how I'm going to look Miss Belladonna in the eye again."

"I'm not sure how I'm going to sleep again!" argued Jaune.

"By learning to control your Semblance and choose when and when not to enter dreams." Oobleck gestured to the seat opposite his desk, and Jaune took it anxiously. The teacher didn't look angry or about to expel him for intruding on the privacy of his peers, which was a good sign. "Your condition isn't uncommon, Mr Arc. Few can perfectly control their Semblances when they first unlock them. They can fire off at random times and inopportune moments. That doesn't mean they will stay that way. You can control this given time and practice. You just need to have that practice."

Okay. Good. Calming. Jaune took a deep breath and let it go, and felt his heartbeat begin to steady. This... This was confirmation that he wasn't completely screwed. Having an idea of where to go, a direction, made it much easier to stay calm.

"What if I drain my aura?"

"Then your Semblance will cut off and I imagine you will go back to your own head. You will wake up exhausted however, and likely need the day off to recover like you did today. That may be something we have to accept," said Oobleck. "It's not ideal, I know, but this happens and there are allowances for it. You wouldn't be the first student to miss lessons for a week or two because their newly unlocked Semblance rendered them too tired to think. That said, you claim that you invaded two dreams on the first day without issue, and only one last night. Is that right?"

"Yes. It was Nora's first, then Blake's later that day and Pyrrha last night."

"Hmm. Miss Valkyrie's dream did not drain your aura so much that you were near collapse, nor did Miss Belladonna's. Miss Nikos', however, pushed you to the infirmary. Why is that, do you think? There must be some reason one could drain your aura faster than another."

Good question. Jaune sat back, confused. "I don't know."

"Recite their dreams for me," said Oobleck. "I'd normally be against it, but the cat is already out the bag. Tell me what you did in each of those dreams."

"Right. Um. I helped Nora fight some Grimm in hers. In Blake's, I kind of just walked around and didn't do much. Pyrrha's was a lot crazier. It was simple at first, but when she started to um..." He blushed, and Doctor Oobleck thankfully let him skip it. "I was running around a lot. Like, a lot. Trying to fend her off."

"Did she assault you?"

"Not like that. Just... Whenever I tried to push her away, she'd appear back by me and... well..." His cheeks darkened even further. There had been hands on him, touching, rubbing and getting him worked up in ways he felt embarrassed to admit. "I can't believe Pyrrha would have that kind of dream."

"None of that, Mr Arc," chided the teacher. "Everyone has them and you can't judge a person by what fantasies or night terrors they experience."

"I know. I know. It's just..." Jaune paused and pondered whether he should put words to the thought that had been in his head ever since the dream. "Does it mean she... likes me?" His cheeks darkened. It felt arrogant to even think it, especially from Pyrrha. "Does it mean she's interested in me?"

"It might. It also might not." Oobleck was calmer in his answer. "I'm sure you've had fantasies about celebrities in your own time, Mr Arc, to say nothing of porn stars online. Does that mean you are in love with them? It could be that Miss Nikos harbours feelings for you, but it could also be that she simply finds you to be her type, handsome or just that you were there in her dream at the right time and right moment. What I am trying to get across is that you cannot take anything you witness in another's dreams at face value."

Jaune nodded. It answered nothing, but it at least let him know he'd have to confirm anything he saw in person. If he had the guts. The thought of walking up and asking Pyrrha if she felt that way was daunting indeed, and there was no telling what her reaction might be. He wasn't sure he was confident enough to do it. What if he was wrong? What if he was right? He'd only have found out because he forced his way into her head without her consent and pillaged her dreams for answers. That wasn't something to be proud of. It was a means over ends kind of dilemma, and he just knew he'd be looking at Pyrrha differently after this, asking if she maybe actually liked him as more than just a friend and teammate. It was a heady feeling, but the idea that the change would come because he rummaged around in her head - like he'd snuck into her room and read her diary - didn't sit right with him.

"You say you were much more active in Miss Nikos' dream, however," said Oobleck, back to the point. "Furthermore, you were actively fighting the dream she was trying to have, correct?"

It clicked. "You're saying I was draining aura faster by running around in her head."

"I'm saying nothing, merely making a hypothesis that you will need to test. Semblances drain aura based on usage, and you claimed to have some control of yourself and your surroundings in Miss Valkyrie's dream. It would stand to reason, since it is their dream and their imagination you are inside, that forcing changes upon those worlds might be energy intensive."

Jaune found himself nodding along. It made a lot of sense, and now that he thought about it he had put a lot more effort into Pyrrha's. Nora had been fighting Grimm with him, but he'd imagined that being easy and it had been, whereas he'd done nothing with Blake, no effort at all, and let the dream run its course. As such, he hadn't been all that tired after Miss Goodwitch woke him up. But Pyrrha's dream had ripped his legs out from under him and left him a mess. He'd done far more in her dream than anyone else's.

"Do you think I should let dreams run their course then?"

"I think you should try to limit your involvement where possible, yes. Not only for the sake of your aura but for the sake of privacy. You are peeking into the subconscious wants and fears of your teammates."

"Ah. Right." He did feel bad about that. Especially finding a very real secret of Blake's. "I didn't mean to."

"I know. That is a saving grace, believe me."

"I'm surprised though," said Jaune, unable to stop himself. "I mean, I thought Pyrrha and Weiss were on good terms, but the Weiss in her dream was an absolute slut. Even I didn't like her. Does Pyrrha really see her like-?"

"No!" Doctor Oobleck was on his feet and looked more than a little alarmed. "No, no, no. You cannot make those assumptions." He watched Jaune settle and sat back down himself. He pinched the bridge of his nose again and said, "What a person experiences in a dream is very different to what they might feel or want in real life. It stands to reason you ought to know more if you're going to be trotting through people's dreams on the regular. Very well, I shall seek to educate you on this matter. We shall have private lessons each afternoon. I trust you are willing?"

Jaune nodded quickly. If this was going to be his life then he wanted to know more.

"Good. To address your concern, I highly doubt that Miss Nikos views Miss Schnee as a... as a slut." He appeared to struggle with Jaune's choice of words, sighing into his hand. "How a person manifests in a dream might represent any of the dreamer's subconscious thoughts, including desires, fears, uncomfortable truths, traumas and sometimes even complete and utter nonsense. Sometimes they are not even related. Let us say for instance that a person suffers from an abusive upbringing and harsh parents; they might dream of their teacher screaming at them in a classroom for failing homework. That does not mean they fear that teacher, or even dislike them, only that their subconscious has chosen to link that person as an authority figure to be afraid of. Miss Nikos' dream is a good example of this. You said that false representations of you and your teammates hurled insults at her. Do you think she genuinely believes you would do that?"

"I hope not." Jaune saw the teacher look at him shrewdly and said, "Okay, I know she wouldn't. I mean, Nora doing that is just not a thing anyone could believe happening, and Ren doesn't have a mean bone in his body. That means... we were substitutes, right? We represented subconscious fears."

"Most likely. For all we know, she was simply a stand-in for the ideal of a popular individual, or Miss Nikos had issues with wealthy sponsors in the past and Miss Schnee fit that descriptor best. You and your team might have similarly featured not because she is afraid of you all hating her, but because you would be the ones she would be most upset about hating her. Rather than feel insulted at your inclusion in her nightmare, feel flattered that she cares for you all enough that you could hurt her most."

That was flattering, but also a little worrying. "I didn't know my opinion mattered that much to her. It's kind of scary knowing I could hurt her that bad."

"Yes, and now we move onto the more worrying part of your Semblance. Invasion of privacy. This fear of your partner, whether founded or not, is something I doubt she would feel comfortable with you knowing. I don't think it is something she would have wanted to share with anyone. For better or worse, you know things about her – and you will learn things about others. What you choose to do with that knowledge is your decision to make, but you must recognise the responsibility in your hands."

"I can find out secrets. Secrets I'm not trusted with." Like Blake's faunus ears. There was a reason she chose to hide them, and even if it was just out of fear of how people might treat her, it was her choice to make. It was also her choice on whether to tell him or her team, and now he was a ticking time bomb that might accidentally drop the knowledge at any moment. He sagged in his seat. "Fuck."

"Indeed, Mr Arc. I'm pleased you recognise the severity of this."

"What should I do? Should I tell them?"

"Conventional wisdom would say yes..." Oobleck winced. "However, you've only been a team for a little over a month now, and them knowing their secrets are exposed to you at all times might... well, even if they trust you they might act differently around you. It could destroy team cohesion."

"Isn't lying worse?"

"I'd normally say yes, but you can't stop what will happen and it will keep happening. We can't exactly have you sleep through the days and miss all lessons. You are going to be bombarded with secrets, subconscious or otherwise, no matter what happens. It might be better for you to become a keeper of them first, and then to reveal yourself later. If you tell your teammates the truth a year from now, they will be closer to you and more willing to forgive you, and they'll also have a year's worth of evidence that their secrets will be safe with you."

Plus, if he learned to control his Semblance in that time then he could reassure them their dreams were safe. Telling them now would lead to them not wanting to sleep in the same room as him, or not feeling safe to sleep at the same times he did. It really was a thorny subject, and he couldn't even blame them.

I'm invading their private thoughts and seeing things they have little to no control over. Worse, I can read into them wrong! I thought Pyrrha hated Weiss, but she must have just been chosen because she fit whatever subconscious thought Pyrrha was having at the time. In a dream no less. I mean, it's not like Blake actually wants to dress me up as a canary and eat me either. It was a dream. Dreams don't have to make sense. The number of times I've been running away from a monster at the speed of a snail should be proof of that.

The plan, then, would have to be to learn to control his Semblance, learn how to limit its usage and keep any secrets he stumbled across. At the same time, he needed to know more about dream theory if he was going to be stuck in them.

"What first?" asked Jaune.

"First, you learn. This is a school after all." Doctor Oobleck moved from his desk to a bookcase, and looked over the shelves for several minutes, humming and muttering to himself. He picked up books to check their covers, and sometimes the contents, then set them down again with a shake of his head, or, in rare cases, tucked one under his arm.

He eventually came back with two thick books stacked atop one another. Neither was specifically about dreams. Jaune asked why.

"Analysis of dreams is but one psychological domain among many. If you were studying psychology, it would be a single module, and often a far less exciting one than sexual reproduction, phobias, or psychological disorders. Plus, I hardly spend time deciphering my students' dreams in here, so I don't have any books on it. Even so, these might help you."

"Dream reading has been an obsession among people since civilisation began," continued the teacher. "Ever since man first closed his eyes and dreamed, he wondered why it was he did, what it was he saw and who had shown him it. Many saw it as communication from a higher power and formed religion around it, and some continue to believe that today. Most, however, accept that it is the brain continuing to work while the body sleeps, for if it were ever to stop then you would die. Some even suggest that certain nightmares – waking nightmares, especially – are caused by your brain realising that the body is paralysed due to sleep and panicking and creating a dream where you are unable to move and helpless. Dreams are fascinating, Mr Arc, but also very misleading. A lot of people have tried to put meaning to them, some more controversially than others."

"I think I've heard of a few of those ones."

"Most likely. Still, there's a lot more to know. For instance, did you know that the average person has four to six dreams a night? You are only seeing one, which may be their last dream. It's thought that the first few can be very short and immediately forgotten."

"It must be the last. When I come out, I wake up and so do they."

"Good to know. Did you also know that it is thought to be impossible to create an original face in a dream?"

Jaune paused. "I didn't."

"According to research, your mind cannot – or does not – come up with unknown faces. Anyone in your dreams will be someone you know or have met before; those you see or think about most often being far more likely to appear, but not necessarily in a role that reflects them in real life."

"Like Pyrrha dreaming of me, Nora and Ren. And Weiss."

"Indeed. I think you'll find the dreams of your friends to feature one another quite regularly, and it may not be because of any intention on their part. Miss Xiao-Long might imagine Miss Rose's face on a serial killer not because she thinks her sister would or because she fears her, but because it's a quick and easy face for her brain to recall and place. Though in that example she probably is more likely to imagine someone she dislikes or fears over her sister. You understand my point, I'm sure."

This was getting complicated. So, dreams could be subconscious desires or fears, but they could also just be people picked at random because the brain had to fill a cast and couldn't draft strangers. Or maybe the situation was the fear, and the cast didn't matter so much. Or it could be the other way round entirely.

Put like that, Yang being in Blake's dream might have been complete chance, but it might also have been a sign of trust. Yang was a guard serving Blake's interests, which could imply she has faith in Yang to stick up for her. Or that she finds Yang good looking. Man, this isn't easy. I've got no idea who the guy in the cage was. Someone she knew before Beacon, I guess.

"Should I keep a dream journal? Maybe show it to you?"

"And expose the secrets of your friends to me or whomever stumbles across it? Goodness no. On both accounts. You may ask me advice if you must, but please obfuscate the details a little. I'd like to be able to look at my students without knowing more than is comfortable of their innermost thoughts and feelings."

"I guess not..."

"Keep your thoughts inside you where they will not be stolen. Consider what is in their dreams if you will, but the easiest way to avoid trouble will be to simply not do anything. Your life isn't likely in danger if you're just a passenger. Turn yourself intangible or float out of reach of any threat. If me theory is correct then the less you do, the less you will find your aura drained. Let the dreams run their course."

"Right. Then, what now? Should I go back and act like nothing has changed?"

"Now, we test," said Oobleck. "And it would be remiss of me to suggest you invade the dreams of your peers when I am right here. Contact your team and tell them you will be staying overnight in the infirmary just to make sure you get a good night's rest. I will take a cot beside your own there. Enter my dream and try to contact me but do your best not to interfere too much. We want to see if your aura reserves remain healthy if you take a less active role."

It was good of him to offer, and he was right to say it would have been poor form for a teacher to let him loose on their students instead, but he couldn't help but think someone like Oobleck might know things a student wasn't supposed to. "Is that really okay?"

"It will have to be, Mr Arc. I cannot with good conscience tell you it is okay to learn the secrets of your friends but not my own. I am an educator first and a caretaker of my students second. If I do not help you, I will have failed in both roles. I simply ask that you keep anything you see to yourself, and not judge me too harshly."

Well, that wasn't ominous at all.

/-/

He was in a dream.

It was easier to notice now that he was aware of the fact; there were little things wrong and indistinct, like the sky that was fuzzy and muted despite the rain that loudly fell all around him. It fell through the cobbled streets of Vale instead of bouncing off or forming puddles and looking down the streets saw bright car headlights and the sounds of traffic, but no actual cars. In the distance he could see some of the towering buildings, but they were hazy and undetailed, and sometimes balanced at odd angles, one even leaning diagonally and another bent in the middle like it was being pulled down a drain.

The hazy distance reminded him of video games and that little trick they used where distant renders would be undetailed or hidden by fog to save on computing power. Dreams must have worked the same way, because asking the mind to simulate all of Vale when you were focused on one small section of it was probably a little too much. It was still strange to walk and feel and see rain passing through his body without touching him or making him feel wet, but there were things you didn't notice in a dream that you would have in real life. Maybe the sleeping mind was just more easily tricked.

So, this was Oobleck's dream. He worked in Beacon and presumably had a home in the city, so Jaune started walking in search. He could have gone in any direction, but it felt more obvious to walk away from the less distinct scenery and toward what was likely the centre of the dream. On the way, he walked by cars frozen in time, their headlights shining and their engines rumbling, but the vehicles not moving. Neither did pedestrians, who were black, shadowy figures without faces frozen in time but letting lose a constant hum of mindless chatter.

He found it eventually, and he knew he had because the pedestrians had started moving. They were still faceless, and they still muttered things that weren't words, but they were walking back and forth. They would walk straight until the end of the road, vanish into the air, and then others would appear and walk back. Again, it reminded him of a video game with NPCs spawning in and out to simulate pathing. He was able to walk through them just as he was the rain, and he soon found himself on the edge of a street looking inward at a figure who was both familiar and unfamiliar. The only thing he could think was that something had gone wrong, because this sure as hell wasn't Oobleck's dream. At least, he hoped not.

It'd be weird if Doctor Oobleck was dreaming about Yang. A Yang who, for some reason, looked to be around twelve or thirteen years of age. It was definitely her because that hair and those eyes couldn't be mistaken, but she was small. Goodness, she was small. Ruby size. She must have hit a growth spurt soon after. Her hair was also tied into pigtails of all styles, and it was shorter. Most of it came down to her shoulders, with the pigtails coming down just a little further to the middle of her biceps. She was stood leaning up against a wall, in a childlike parody of her usual outfit.

It looked just a little too weird and a little too uncomfortable on so young a girl.

At least this dream is mostly innocent, thought Jaune. Good old Yang and her dependable dreams. Nothing crazy, weird or terrifying here. He wondered if this was a memory. Yang and Ruby lived on Patch, but they'd told him they often came to Vale for shopping or to have fun, so this could have been a memory.

Then, she saw him. And smiled. "Hey vomit-boy."

Ugh. Even in her dreams? He supposed it was better than being freaked out. Sighing, he walked forward through the intangible people and the intangible rain. "Hello Yang. What are you doing out here in the rain?"

"Waiting." She rocked on her heels and bounced her back against the wall, grinning that wild smile of hers. It looked even bigger on such a small face, and he was forced to admit that Yang was a pretty freaking adorable kid. Good genetics. Or maybe she dreamed herself without the acne and pimples that plagued all kids her age.

"Who for?"

"My team, duh." Child Yang didn't seem to see anything wrong with her age, or the idea of a child her age having a team, so Jaune didn't comment on it. The plan had been to stick around, let the dream happen and not intervene and use up his aura. "We're going out on the town."

Not at that age, you're not, thought Jaune. He smiled anyway. "Yeah? Team RWBY going to paint the town red?"

"You know it, buster." Yang's smile faltered just a little bit. "They're late, though." She checked her scroll. "Really late." She huffed, laughed, and it sounded frail. "They were meant to be here an hour ago."

That explained her waiting, though not why she did it in the rain. "Did you get the right place?"

"We agreed here. They said they'd be here." Yang put her scroll away harshly and said, "They'll be here. They'll come."

Jaune had no reason to doubt they wouldn't. This was Yang's dream after all, and if she wanted her team to arrive then they would. It was a pretty boring dream, all things told, but that wasn't bad from his point of view. Less reason to use any aura. I guess not every dream can be a banger. Sometimes you need a chill one. Shrugging, he leaned against the wall to her left, with Yang shooting him a curious look. It would have made him uncomfortable were she her usual self, but child Yang was too innocent-looking for him to do anything but smile back. She reminded him of Amber, except less whiny.

"Figured I'd hang around and keep you company," he said.

"Pftt." Yang giggled into her hand. "You just want to try and see Weiss in a club outfit."

"I didn't... Well, I wouldn't say no..."

"I knew it!" Giggling louder, Yang leaned back on the wall next to him and shook with mirth. "You're so smitten it's sickening. You know Weiss doesn't like you that way, right?"

"I know."

Did dream-child-Yang have to hit him with the hard truths in her own dream, for fuck's sake? He knew. He didn't need this.

"It's your funeral if she shouts at you," said Yang, "but sure, hang around." Her scroll was out again. "They'll be here any second. It's gonna be an awesome night. Best night ever."

They fell into a companionable silence. He liked to think so, anyway. To Yang, it was probably more like the idiot stopped talking and let her think, but she wasn't like Weiss who would let him know that in no uncertain terms, nor Blake who, while polite, would fix someone with a look if she didn't like them near her. Yang was the kind of person to keep your feelings in mind and include you just so you didn't feel like shit. He wondered what they had planned and if it would be crossing a line to tag along for this 'best night ever' she was dreaming about. It probably wouldn't be anything lewd, but it was still obviously a Team RWBY thing, and he hadn't been invited.

As time passed – and it felt like hours – the moon rose higher in the sky, and the crowds of faceless pedestrians filtered out and disappeared. Before long, it was just the two of them, and the rain had gotten heavier. It actually struck and stuck to Yang, wetting her hair and drenching her outfit while continuing to pass through him. Her bangs had come down over her forehead and eyes, and she'd tilted her face forward to shield herself.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" asked Jaune when his patience finally gave out. "I mean, they're still not here and-"

"It's the right place!" snapped Yang. There was a high-pitched crack in her voice at the right, and Jaune stilled. He looked to the side and down, eyes widening as he caught her quickly wipe her left arm over her face and eyes.

"Yang...?"

"M...Maybe they're just busy," she said. "Something must have happened. Weiss broke a nail, or Ruby got cold feet, or Blake got lost in the library. There's probably a good reason. I-I'll call them." Yang drew out her scroll quickly and desperately tried to connect. A flashing light in the top corner blinked twice before it went black. "It's out of battery?" she gasped. "But I charged it."

"Here." Jaune pulled his out. He willed a scroll into existence despite Oobleck's warnings. Surely this wouldn't cost him any aura. Yang looked downright relieved as he handed it over. "Use mine."

"Vomit boy, you're my hero!" she gasped, taking it and shielding it from the rain with one hand as she called. "Come on. Come on." The sound of the ringing continued, and continued, and continued. Ruby didn't pick up. "Why isn't she answering? I thought we were going to go out."

Yang's hand fell, his scroll slipping from her fingers to the floor. It passed through it like the rain. It wasn't a real scroll, or his, so he let it go without complaint. "They must be on their way," he said. "Only reason they wouldn't answer, right?"

Yang's eyes were fixed on the pavement. "They promised..."

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Jaune brought a hand to his forehead and looked around for help. Team RWBY preferably. He wasn't sure he could influence a dream so much as to summon three people and have them act in a way that was natural, and Doctor Oobleck had told him not to make changes. Not to fight the dream. I can't do nothing, though. Yang looks like she's about to cry. Adult Yang, he couldn't imagine crying, but child Yang? That was hitting all the wrong spots.

"Why don't we go out instead?" he asked suddenly.

Yang froze. "What?"

"Yeah, we can head out now and get your scroll charged. Send them a text and tell them to meet us at the club instead. They're probably on their way, just held up in traffic." He didn't know if that was true, but Yang was looking up at him with big, hopeful eyes. "There's no point waiting out in the rain. We can get in a few pre-drinks too. You really think Weiss or Ruby are going to be heavy drinkers?"

Her shoulders shook a little. The wobbly smile on her face told him it wasn't from about to burst into tears. "I guess we could..."

"Yeah. Come on. Let's do it." He grinned. "It'll be fun."

Yang pushed off the wall. "Alright. Let's do it!"

The world changed suddenly. It swirled and melted away, and Jaune thought for a moment he was waking up before it fixed itself. They weren't on a street by a building anymore, but they also weren't in a nightclub or bar as would have made sense. Instead, they were at what looked to be an abandoned playpark. Not abandoned because of disuse or its state, but because it was still night-time and still raining. Yang was sat on a wooden bench, drenched through and with her knees apart, hands between them, face down.

Jaune sighed and walked up to her. "Weren't we about to go clubbing?"

Yang looked up. "I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

Strangers? What? They'd just been- ugh, Yang's dream must have changed. Great. All that progress undone in a second. Jaune sighed into his hand and said, "I'm not a stranger. I'm Jaune. You know, vomit-boy?" The names brought no recognition, so he sighed and sat down beside her. "Are you waiting for your team?"

"Team?" asked the girl. "I don't have a team. I'm in Signal. I'm waiting for my uncle."

"Your uncle?"

"Mm." The girl nodded. "Uncle Qrow. He's going to pick me up." Her lips pursed, and her voice dropped. "He said he would pick me up before it was dark."

Jaune looked up. It must have been gone midnight. "He's doing a pretty bad job of that."

"He'll come," said Yang, with that self-assured certainty all children had. "He has to come."

"What about your parents?"

"Mom died." Yang said it flatly, though not emotionlessly, and Jaune cringed.

"And your dad?"

"He... He's still alive. He just... forgets." Yang laughed, but her shoulders had come up to her ears as she hunched down. "Sometimes he forgets things, like to cook dinner or clean up... or bathe. Or that we exist. It's fine," she said hurriedly, shaking it away. "Uncle Qrow will come. He'll come pick me up soon." The girl shivered suddenly, hunching her knees up on the bench. It was still raining heavily. "H...He probably just stopped for a drink. He'll be here soon. You'll see."

He was beginning to suspect her uncle would not, in fact, be here anytime soon. A pattern was occurring in this dream, which Jaune was beginning to think might actually be a nightmare. He closed his eyes and pictured his father's heaviest raincoat, then stood and took it off. It had appeared on him as if he'd always had it. "Here. You look cold. Wear this."

Yang shuffled into the coat eagerly; it was too big for her, and she looked adorable buried in it. Jaune flourished his hand as well, suddenly bringing out an umbrella and opening it up. He held it above her to shield out the rain.

"W-When did you have that?" asked Yang.

"I always had it." He smiled around the lie and winked at the small girl. "You just didn't see it before. I'll wait with you until your uncle comes, okay? It doesn't feel right to leave a little girl outside on their own at this time of night."

"I'll be fine," muttered Yang. "It's not the first time this has happened..."

He really hoped that was the dream talking and not an accurate representation of Yang's childhood. Doctor Oobleck had been right about the secrets; there were some things he just didn't need to know about his friends. Not about someone as stable and bright and bubbly as Yang. With a heavy sigh, Jaune set himself to waiting with her again.

It didn't take long for something to appear. It was not her uncle. Jaune knew because it was not a person at all, but a rattling, little red wagon on wheels that had come to a slow and ominous creak by the side of the park. No one was there to push or pull it, but he supposed this was a dream and things like physics didn't really matter. Yang perked up, smiling, but Jaune couldn't help but notice how dark and ominous that street was. The edges were blurred and mixed with a forest, and the wagon was shaking slightly. Maybe it was context, or maybe he could just see the clues Yang couldn't because she was trapped in the dream and he wasn't, but he didn't like that wagon. Not one bit. It might as well have had its own spooky theme music for how much of a horror-movie vibe he was getting.

"Hey, that's our wagon!" Yang made to get up and rush over, naively innocent, but Jaune pulled her back onto the seat by her, or his, coat. "What gives?" she asked with a pout. "It's mine. My family's."

"You're soaked through," he said, handing the umbrella to her. "Plus, you're wearing my coat and will trip up if you try and run in it." He nodded to her feet, which were tangled in his coattails. "Why don't you sit here and I'll go check it out."

He stood and waved her back down, and Yang obliged, kicking her legs under the bench and watching him as he walked over to the thing. It was covered with a matted, grey cloth. A blanket, almost. It wasn't moving now, but it still felt wrong, ominous, and just downright evil. He looked back to see Yang still kicking her feet, watching, but thankfully staying on the bench where he'd told her to. Jaune knelt and touched the edge of the blanket, took a breath and peeled it up.

He slapped it back down again immediately.

His heart was pounding, his eyes were closed and a storm of emotions ran about in his head. It's not real, he told himself. It's not real. This was a dream, a nightmare, and Ruby was safe and sound in bed in her dorm, in that safety hazard of a bed of hers, likely dreaming about cookies, milk and sniper rifles.

This...

This was not Ruby.

It would never be Ruby.

"It's nothing," lied Jaune, turning back to Yang with a smile he didn't feel. The girl looked curious, and he headed that off. "It's dog poo."

"What!?" cried Yang. "Ew!"

"Yeah, someone played a nasty prank. It's not yours either; I saw another name on it. Must just look like yours. Same brand or from the same shop." He moved to distract her quickly. "Hey, do you want to go on the swings?"

Yang blinked. "There's no one to push me."

"I'll do it."

"You?" Yang eyed him weirdly. "Mister, are you a predator?"

"What!? No!" Something in his voice must have convinced her because Yang burst out laughing. Jaune groaned. "Gods, Yang, I'm not. Ugh. You're a huntress-in-training anyway. You can kick my butt if I try anything. I just thought it'd be more fun than sitting around in the rain feeling miserable."

"Okay!" Yang bounced off the bench and dashed over to the swings. The red wagon and its grim contents remained hidden, and he was grateful for the fact. The small girl had clambered up onto the seat and was gripping the metal chains. "Push me hard!" she ordered. "I want to go really high."

"Really high?"

"Mm. I always push Ruby high, but she can't push me. She tries but she's too weak."

He felt like asking why her father or this Uncle Qrow couldn't, but that felt like it'd bring about too miserable a conversation. Jaune took the spot behind her instead, placing his hands gently on the chains, above her smaller hands, and giving her a push. He went slow at first, but only to get her started. Yang kept egging him on until he was throwing his weight into it, catching her by the seat of the swing when it reached back, and then hurling it forward. Yang shrieked, her entire body going horizontal as she reached the apex of the swing and then came crashing back down again.

He didn't expect it – he probably should have; it was Yang after all – when she let go of the swing and sailed through the air. Jaune's breath caught in his throat, but she was a huntress, even at that age, and she landed perfectly, rolling forward and leaping up to face him with her arms stretched and the wildest of smiles on her face. "Ta-dah! Look how far I went!"

"You went really far," said Jaune, walking up to her. "Hey look, the sun is coming up."

"The sunrise?" Yang turned, not at all minding him as he came up to stand next to her. "Ugh. And Uncle Qrow still isn't here. I'm going to give him hell when he drags his drunk butt here. He's gonna have to buy me so many sweets to not tell dad."

"Tell him anyway," said Jaune. "He deserves a telling-off for this."

Yang sniggered. "Yeah." Yang stilled suddenly, then gripped his arm. She turned to face him and smiled shyly. "Hey mister? Thanks for... um... staying. And everything." She looked away, blushing cutely. "It was fun."

Without warning, Yang stood on tiptoes, and seemed to grow. The girl that had been a child was suddenly bigger; she was taller now, Yang's normal size, and she used it to plant a kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you," whispered Yang, a mere moment before the dream ended.

/-/

The infirmary was neither quiet nor still as Jaune woke. There was movement in the corner of his vision, and he sat up. The movement caught Doctor Oobleck's eye, who turned to him with a smile. "Ah, Mr Arc. Was it successful? I admit, I expected to remember you had been in my dream, but dreams are so commonly forgotten that I don't know why I did."

"It wasn't your dream. I was in Yang's."

Doctor Oobleck blinked, then hummed. He already had a cup of coffee. "Interesting. I expected you would invade mine by proximity, given that you had been in those near you in the past. It looks like I was mistaken. You're apparently much more likely to enter the dreams of people you are emotionally close to, or perhaps it is a case of exposure. People you spend more physical time with."

Jaune nodded. It made sense, and he had no better explanation for this.

"Did you remember my instructions regardless?" asked Oobleck. He obviously didn't want any details but was curious to see if his theory had proven correct.

"I did my best not to change anything. I influenced a few things, but not many."

"I trust you had your reasons. No, don't tell me them. The less I know, the happier Miss Xiao-Long will be. Let us check your aura." He had his scroll out and to Jaune's arm. He knew what the results would be before the teacher because he didn't feel as utterly exhausted as he had after Pyrrha's. "Your aura levels are above ninety per cent! Wonderful news. It's just as I suspected it would be. You utilise aura to modify things in people's dreams. To implant your own vision within their minds. Excellent."

It was good news. He could avoid throwing his aura away now if he just kept to himself and didn't change things. In fact, he'd have even more left if he hadn't created a raincoat and an umbrella for Yang. He couldn't say he regretted the small expenditure. Maybe it hadn't been real and Yang hadn't really been freezing in the rain, but it must have felt like it to her. It hadn't cost him much to help.

"I'm going to suggest you continue your studies as normal," said Oobleck, "but that you and I reconvene each evening if you're able to discuss findings. You're free to tell your team you're helping me with work for extra credit or just getting extra training. Whichever you prefer. I will see about locating some theories and studies into dreams as well and have some ready for you. I'd advise reading them here or on your scroll rather than take them to your dorm. Your teammates are not stupid and will likely piece together a sudden fascination with dream-related material, low aura reserves and you appearing in their dreams. Until you have better control, continue to try and have as little an impact in their dreams as you can. Let them happen. Don't interfere."

Jaune nodded along, but he wasn't sure he could. It would have been easy to stand back and watch Yang wait for her team in the rain, or wait hopelessly for her uncle, or discover Ruby's bloody remains in that wagon. It would have been easier, but it wouldn't have been right. He didn't think he could just stand by and let that happen.

And he didn't think he should.