Sorry for the delay. I was too busy thinking about how I love making everyone wait for updates.

Cover art - Imyoshi

The poster showed a scene Jaune had never experienced in his life - a picture of a happy couple dancing.

The Beacon dance was fast approaching. As part of the Vytal Festival, a ball with all the students and teachers from other academies was to be hosted in the main hall. But it wasn't just any old dance, oh no. This was to celebrate many years of peace between all the kingdoms of Remnant.

Okay, that really didn't mean much to the students, but at least it meant they could all potentially get laid all in the name of peace.

Jaune had already tried to secure a date for it months before it was even announced. It wasn't just Weiss he asked out; he had asked Coco, a transfer student named Emerald, those twins at that club- asking them both out at the same time turned out to be a BIG mistake. He even asked Ren until Nora gave him the 'I'm gonna kill you so hard' eyes. Basically, he was willing to take anyone.

But now, the game had changed. Jaune looked at that poster and saw himself up there, dancing with a certain teacher.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were actually thinking," Weiss said.

Jaune turned around and saw her standing behind him. "I didn't even hear you come in," he said. "How can you be so sneaky in heels? Do you tiptoe or something?"

"We're hunters, Jaune. The clue's in the name. I'd be a pretty poor one if I couldn't apply the element of stealth from time to time."

"Yeah, but… in heels? That's not right."

"Says the boy who insists on wearing heavy armour, clanking around like a tin can."

"It's gotta be safer than wearing a dress."

"Combat skirt," Weiss corrected him.

"Yeah, yeah. What exactly makes it combat suitable again?"

"That-" she said as she poked him in the chest. "-is none of your business. But enough about my fashion sense. It's time we took care of yours."

"We've been over this, Weiss. I ain't throwing away the hoodie. It's a part of me. I unlocked my aura in this thing."

Weiss rolled her eyes. "That's not what I meant- although, believe me, we aren't finished with that atrocity yet. I assume you are aware of the upcoming Beacon Ball?"

"Of course." Even if he didn't care about it, he'd have to be blind to miss all the buzz surrounding it. With all the posters and talk about it, you'd swear it was everyone's last night alive to party.

"Excellent. Now, I don't know what your plans beforehand were, but it doesn't matter, because I've planned out the night for you. You will be attending the ball. And you will offer Professor Goodwitch a dance."

Jaune blinked. He wasn't sure he heard her correctly. "I'm gonna be dancing with Goodwitch?"

"Indeed. It doesn't have to be for the whole night, but you must dance with her at least once. After that, you're free to do as you please."

"I thought you were worried about me being too forward before?" Jaune said. "Don't you think dancing with her is taking a risk?"

"Normally, yes," Weiss agreed. "But after everything you've gotten away with so far, we might as well start taking bolder steps. And it's not as if you have to be her date for the ball. It's just one dance. For all intents and purposes, it's harmless.

"But even though it's one dance, you must keep yourself exclusive to her. Make her feel like she's important to you. That means no flirting with other girls, or asking them to be your date. Especially with girls that aren't interested." Her eyes narrowed into icy daggers. "Don't think I've forgotten about those forty-four invites you sent me," she growled.

Jaune's face paled. "Hehe, you, uh, you got all those?" he chuckled nervously. "I thought they got lost in the mail."

"Oh, they did. Along with the mailman."

How could someone so petite be so menacing?

"I get it, I'll be on my best behaviour," he said. "If a girl so much as looks my way, I'll look somewhere else."

It was unlikely that any would, but a guy could dream.

"I know you will," she said. "But before you can even think about dancing with her, we need to work on your appearance. No matter how close you are now, Goodwitch will not want to be seen with someone looking like a slob. First things first, we need to decide your outfit for the night."

"No need. I've already got a suit. I bought it months ago."

Weiss shook her head. "Absolutely not. You cannot approach her wearing a peasant's suit. I won't allow it."

Jaune's eyes widened. "It's not a peasant's suit!" he cried. "I bought it at a fancy shop! It cost me a lot of money!"

"Oh yes," Weiss droned. "I'm sure a student's budget allowed you to afford only the highest quality of clothing. No doubt you only wear the same outfit every day to appear humble."

There was so much sarcasm in her tone, he could taste it.

"I'm not trying to insult you," she rectified. "I'm simply stating facts. You bought something cheap because it's all you can afford. And you know what else? - every other boy will be wearing the same thing, because it's all they can afford too. You need something that will help you stand out from the other students, give you an air of maturity. You need a designer brand."

Jaune raised an eyebrow. "A designer brand? Do you know how much that last suit cost me? We can't all be rich like you."

Weiss wagged her finger. "Correction, I'm not rich, Jaune - I'm very rich. And luckily for you, you don't need to be. That's what I'm here for. I'm happy to pay for it myself."

"Hmm…"

Weiss frowned. "What do you mean 'hmm'?"

"Normally, I'd be happy and humbled that you'd pay for something so expensive for me, but you've already spent so much already. Makes me wonder if I'm racking up a debt here."

"This is for the benefit of both of us, remember?" Weiss reminded. "I'm willing to pay whatever cost if it gets you to stop flirting with me. Besides, the price doesn't concern me. The cost of any suit - designer or otherwise - is barely a ripple in my cash pool."

And the award for the most humble thing ever said goes to…

"What should I do with my old suit then?" he asked.

"Sell it, burn it, give it to charity, I don't care. Just don't wear it on the night. You're Goodwitch's dance, and Goodwitch's dance doesn't dress like a student. Now then, what are you doing right now?"

"Nothing."

"Not anymore," she said. "If you're free, then you're coming with me to get a new suit. And I know just the place to buy one. We'll leave immediately."

"Can I at least get something to eat first-?"

"Immediately!"

"... immediately," he grumbled.

"Immediately," she beamed proudly. "Oh, and before I forget, this is for you."

She gave him an envelope, which already put him on edge. It wasn't Christmas or his birthday, so getting a letter now was a bad sign. It had the Schnee family emblem printed on it.

"What's this?" he asked.

"A bill regarding the damage costs for the earpiece," Weiss said.

A bill for- say what?

He tore it open and scanned the contents of the paper inside. Holy hotdogs, that was a lot of numbers!

"What the hell, why are you giving me this?" he cried.

"You broke the earpiece during your sparring match," Weiss said simply. "Someone has to pay for repairs, and it might as well be the one who broke it."

"That was Goodwitch, not me!"

"Well, I can't charge her for it, can I? And since it was your responsibility to look after it, that leaves only you."

"I thought you said I wasn't in debt to you?"

Weiss rolled her eyes. "This is hardly me collecting debt. This is just you taking responsibility for your recklessness."

"But look at this thing! This is more than I can afford in three lifetimes! How am I supposed to repay you?"

"Good question. Let me know when you come up with a good answer. You can ponder about it today. Now, onward!"

Weiss pulled him by the wrist towards the land of fancy suits and other stylish clothing, leaving him to think about his impending financial crisis in silence.

[/]

'Welcome to Better Vale' read the fancy sign atop the gate to Vale's rich district. The guard outside the gate was doing everything in his power to avoid looking at Jaune. His eyes were completely on Weiss.

"At ease, Mortimer," Weiss greeted him as they approached him.

Mortimer cracked a smile. "Ah, Ms Schnee," he said in an upper-class voice Jaune couldn't even afford to imitate. "It's always a pleasure to see you again."

"Likewise. Now then, I suspect you'll be wanting to see my papers?"

"Protocol must be followed. Though since it's you, I doubt there will be any problems."

Weiss' 'papers' was actually just a bank statement. You had to have a certain level of wealth if you wanted to enter the rich district. Anything short of a hundred-thousand was considered unacceptable.

"Yes, yes," Mortimer hummed, scanning his eyes over the paper. "Everything seems to be quite in order as always." He then cast an eye at Jaune, staring at him like he was a fly in his morning cup of Earl Grey. "And what of your… counterpart? He is with you, yes?"

"He is, and I promise he won't be any trouble," Weiss assured him. "We're merely shopping for a suit so that he might impress someone. He will be under my supervision at all times."

"I see," he murmured, not sounding entirely convinced. "I don't want to hear any complaints from other citizens. Can I trust you to keep an eye on him at all times, and to make sure he won't lunge at anyone?"

"I'm not a dog, you know!" Jaune snapped.

"What did he say?" Mortimer asked Weiss.

"He said he is honoured to walk among the elite, and that he will be on his best behaviour," Weiss translated.

Jaune glared at her, promising to save his insults for when they got inside.

"Ah, I see," Mortimer said. "You understand the common tongue well, Ms Schnee. I'm still learning it myself. It will help me get rid of undesirables in a way they can understand me."

"It wasn't easy," Weiss chuckled. "In my early days at Beacon, I could barely understand what my team was saying to me. It felt like less of a school and more of a zoo."

"You're an inspiration to us all." Mortimer opened the gate, granting the two of them entrance into Vale's rich district.

In every city in Remnant, there existed a side of town that catered only to the super-rich. Without Weiss, Jaune would've never gotten in. There was no middle ground in these districts. You were either loaded with cash, or you were - in their own words - a member of cattle-class.

The rich district was certainly different from any part of the city Jaune had seen. Cobblestones made of gold paved the streets. Children played in fountains that poured lien, splashing coins at each other. It had been overcast before they entered, but in the rich district, the sun was shining without a cloud in the sky. This was because the people here could afford to have perfect weather at all times.

"Mmm, smell that air," Weiss sighed. "Reminds me of my gardens back home. How refreshing." When she didn't hear him respond, she turned to look at him. "What's wrong?"

"Less of a school and more of a zoo, huh?" he said, repeating her own words back at her.

"Don't give me that look," she said. "I didn't mean what I said back there. I had to put on a performance so that he'd let us in."

"Whatever you say."

"Oh please, as if I need the approval of a peasant- er, person! As if I need the approval of another person. That's what I said."

He raised an eyebrow. "Smooth."

"Now remember, this district isn't like your typical streets in Vale. People here have extremely high standards, and proper etiquette is everything. Act as though you belong here, and everything will be fine."

"I know how to be polite, Weiss," he scoffed. "Just watch."

Jaune looked down the road and saw a gentleman walking by, his tailcoat fluttering behind him in the soft breeze. On his head was a large top hat, and a monocle covered one of his eyes. His cane tapped against the golden pavement as he walked.

Jaune approached him in good nature. "Afternoon, sir," he greeted. "I like your-"

The man's brow furrowed and he spat on the ground, narrowly missing Jaune's shoes.

"No, not like that," Weiss groaned. "I told you, you need to speak on their level. Like this." She walked up to the man with a smile on her face. "Good money to you, sir," she said warmly. "How are you this money?"

The disgusted look on the man's face immediately vanished. "Good money to you too, my dear," he beamed. "I'm feeling very money today. That dress looks money on you."

"Money very much, kind sir. Money."

The man tipped his hat to her and waltzed down the street. Jaune watched the whole display with a flat expression.

"You people are disgusting," Jaune deadpanned.

"Yes, we are," Weiss agreed. "Disgusting, vile, intolerable. But also rich. Very, very rich."

Weiss led the way, navigating through the streets with expert ease. He didn't know how often she came here, but she knew the area like the back of her perfectly manicured hand. He could only follow as they made their way through this rich man's wonderland.

There were barely any shops to be seen, the streets were littered with mostly banks and stock exchange. So much stock exchange. How much more money did these people want? They already had enough to buy the rest of the city. He actually had to pry Weiss away from one of the bids at one point.

"But the numbers, Jaune!" she had cried. "Don't you hear them? They sing to me!"

"You're the heiress to the biggest company in the world! You have enough money!"

"But the numbers! The numbers!"

When this was all over, he swore to himself that he would forever remain middle-class.

Their destination was a giant glass building with a sign reading 'Cafran's'. For what little shops and restaurants there were in the rich district, they were all named after the owner of them. This was because the owners were the best at their craft, and as such, there was no need for extra shops of the same trade. You wanted to eat sushi, there was only one restaurant for it. Needed to buy groceries? There was only one shop.

Wanna buy a fancy suit? You had to go to Cafran's. Why go anywhere else?

Jaune felt naked staring at the suits and dresses that decorated the inside of the windows. Even from this distance, he could see the quality of them. They blew his old one out of the water. The only way he'd be able to afford one from this shop was if he sold both his arms. Even then, he'd probably still walk away with only a tie.

"Let me do the talking here," Weiss said. "Don't speak unless spoken to. Cafran does not like those who waste his time."

They crossed the street, allowing a horse carriage to pass, and entered the shop. The bell rang as they opened the door. The smell of fine leather and clean-cut tailoring greeted them when they walked in.

Cafran appeared the moment he heard the bell ring; a tall, tanned man with swept-back dark hair. He wore a deluxe suit of his own, and taking one look at him, it was hard to imagine him in anything else. The suit looked like it was fused to his very body, fitting him perfectly like a second skin. If it was true that clothes made the man, then Jaune had a feeling if he removed the suit, there'd be nothing but thin air below his head.

Cafran was beaming at first. "Welcome to Cafran's," he said in that upper-class voice everyone had here. "How may I-?"

Then he looked at who his customers were. He scowled, although for once, it wasn't aimed at Jaune.

"Oh… Ms Schnee," he droned. "How delightful to see you again. What a treat."

Weiss smiled nervously. "It's good to see you again too, Cafran," she said, giving a small curtsey in the process.

"Yes, I'm sure," he said, voice laced with sarcasm. "Feel free to look around, as long as you promise not to make a mess again. In fact, perhaps you should wash your hands before you start touching anything. We wouldn't want another incident to happen again, would we?"

"This again?" Weiss sighed. "Please, sir, that was a long time ago. I thought you would have forgiven me by now."

Cafran raised an eyebrow. "Forgive the girl who ruined my priceless silk dress, one of my greatest creations? You assume too much, madam."

"I was five years old!" Weiss cried. "It was an accident! It was my first time wearing heels, and that mud puddle appeared out of nowhere-!"

"I've heard enough," Cafran scoffed. "Now then, would you be so kind as to hurry up and find what you're looking for? It's not that I want you to go, it's just I don't want you to stay."

Weiss bit her lip to ease her frustration. "Well, lucky for you, we're not shopping for me today. This is all about him."

She pointed to Jaune.

Cafran looked at him with a curious expression. At least it wasn't a disappointed one like how he was with Weiss. "Interesting," he murmured. "And who might this be?"

"This is Jaune," Weiss said. "He's my latest… creation, I guess you could say. He needs a suit to impress someone for Beacon's upcoming dance. Only the best will do."

"Well, you've come to the right place." Cafran stared - no, inspected - Jaune. He tapped the side of his chin thoughtfully. "Speak," he commanded him.

"What do you want me to say?" Jaune asked, the first words he has spoken since entering the shop.

"Hmmm, a good voice," Cafran said. He gently brushed the sleeve of his Pumpkin Pete hoodie. "Your hoodie… I've never seen anything like it before. It is unique in the fashion industry."

"It had better be," Jaune huffed. "I sent off fifty cereal box tops for it."

Cafran nodded approvingly. "A man who fights for what he wears, I like it. How long have you owned it for?"

"About seven years now."

"It's remarkably clean."

"I don't go swimming in mud puddles."

Weiss could be heard grumbling behind him.

"Very well," Cafran said. "You have my permission to shop here, Jaune. But do keep an eye on the little heiress, if you please. Not all of us here appreciate finer clothing."

"Sir, please-" Weiss began to protest, but Cafran had already vanished, muttering to himself something about covering everything in tarp just to be safe.

Weiss looked up at Jaune who, admittedly, had a pretty smug grin on his face. "Well, don't just stand there. Try something on," she snapped.

[/]

Jaune looked at himself in the changing room mirror. Oh yeah, he looked good. He wasn't as used to wearing fancy clothes like the people here were, but the suit looked great on him. It fitted him nicely, he liked the colour, it was definitely gonna be better than whatever everyone else at the dance was wearing. Looks like he had found a winner.

Jaune stepped out of the changing room wearing suit number… however many he had tried on now. Weiss was waiting for him outside, sitting on the waiting chair and judging his every move.

Jaune spread his arms apart. "What do you think?" he asked.

Weiss' eyes scanned his body him like the world's frostiest security gate. "Hate it," she said.

Jaune sagged. "Seriously, Weiss? You've said that for every single one now. There's got to be one suit here you think looks good."

"The suit? Oh no, the suit's fine. There's nothing wrong with the suit. It's perfect."

"What? But you've been saying you hate them for the past ten minutes."

"Hmm, I have, haven't I?" she murmured. It was both reassuring and disturbing to know her behaviour was confusing to even herself.

Her eyes lit up and she snapped her fingers. "I understand now," she said. "I love the suits, I just hate them on you."

"Hey!" he cried.

"I'm sorry, I can't help it. These suits are made for public figures, nobles and businessmen. To see a peasant in one bothers me on a spiritual level."

"Did you just use the p-word again?"

Weiss flinched. "I'm sorry. Shops like this bring out the Atlas in me. I cannot control what I say."

"Oh no, that's not good enough," Jaune said, crossing his arms. "If we're gonna keep trying on suits, you gotta learn to say something nice to me."

Weiss' face scrunched up like she was trying to squeeze out the biggest shit in her life. That was an incredibly unflattering way to describe Weiss, but she had just called him a peasant. Fair's fair.

The effort was too much for her and she relented. "I can't do it," she sighed. "I look at you and see poison. We need a professional opinion."

Weiss called for Cafran, who came out sighing and rubbing his eyelids.

"What is it now?" he groaned. "Don't you dare tell me you aren't satisfied with any of these."

"We need an unbiased opinion," Weiss said. "I can't judge how these suits look on him due to reasons that have absolutely nothing to do with prejudice. How do you think Jaune looks?"

Cafran gave him a quick look-over. "I think he looks fine- wait… wait a minute… hmm, I see, I see..."

Jaune squirmed. What was it with rich people and judgemental stares? Did they have to practice in a mirror to have such a piercing gaze?

"Well, first, let's ask the important question. Do you feel like you belong in the suit, Jaune?" Cafran asked.

He thought he did, but after two staredowns, he was starting to feel a little self-conscious.

"I mean, I think so-" he began.

"Aha! That's all I needed to hear," Cafran interrupted. "You think, rather than knowing. Doubt has crept into your head, and that's why you look a little out of place. It looks like the suit is wearing you, when it should be the other way round. The clothes make the man, but if the man is unsure of himself, they become just clothes."

"I know I'm not used to wearing fancy suits, but I still think I look good," Jaune said.

"There you go again, think. Suits are designed to impose an image. They represent the quality of their user. But one loose thread can cause the entire cloth to tear. Merely thinking rather than believing you look excellent can cause the entire image to shatter. You'd be not unlike a dull duck, trying to fool everyone into thinking it's glamorous by dressing as a peacock."

Jaune never thought he'd feel insulted by being called a duck until today.

"I assume this is what you meant by the clothes not suiting him, yes, Ms Schnee?" Cafran asked Weiss.

Weiss frantically nodded. "Y-Yes, of course. It's like you read my mind." She was desperately trying to sound as humble as possible.

"Are you saying I'm hopeless then?" Jaune glumly said.

"Not at all," Cafran said. "You just need something that will work with you no matter how you're feeling. Something that will maintain your honour even when doubt creeps in. And as it just so happens, I have the perfect suit for such a situation. Something I know someone the likes of Ms Schnee can easily afford."

"I'm not sure I like where this is going," Weiss murmured.

Neither did Jaune. There was a mad glint in Cafran's eyes. The same glint he saw on Ruby when she was gushing about weapons, or on Goodwitch during their sparring session that turned into a massacre.

But then again, this was a guy who made suits. It made sense for him to be proud of his craft. It was probably harmless.

Cafran disappeared out back for a few moments. When he came back, he was carrying a big black case that looked like a coffin to Jaune. A funeral suit? Was that what he was offering?

Cafran unlocked the big heavy padlocks on the sides of the case. A stream of smoke spilt out from the case as the lid was removed. Jaune swore he could hear a hissing sound the moment the case was opened.

Inside was a suit, not that he was expecting anything different. It looked just as pristine and deluxe as all the others, but there was nothing noticeably special that made it stand out.

"What you see here is my magnum opus," Cafran proudly announced. "This suit will cooperate with you through even your darkest of days, when you feel like your name has been dragged through the mud. Like the mighty General Ironwood with his army, you will command the respect of your peers. Try it on, I insist."

Jaune stared at the suit. "What if it doesn't fit?" he asked. "Don't you want my measurements?"

"There's no need," Cafran said. "You'll find this one is quite adaptable."

"What does that mean?"

"Try it on and find out."

How very vague. How could he say no to that?

Wasting no time, Jaune picked up the suit from the case and brought it to the changing room. He noted how soft and smooth it felt under his fingers. That was a good start. It'd probably feel even better once he tried it on.

His suspicions were confirmed the moment he wore the outfit in full. Oh yes. This felt and looked perfect on him. He had never worn it before, yet it felt warm and cosy, like he was wearing his beloved hoodie. The suit fitted his body perfectly and actually seemed to improve his figure. His muscles looked strangely bigger wearing it, and he found himself standing up straight without even realising it.

He looked at himself in the mirror and resisted the urge to shake his own reflections hand. That's how important he looked right now. It felt like he was born to wear this suit.

He placed his hand over the right side of his chest, listening to the gentle sound of his heart. Calm and confident. That's what he was. With this, Goodwitch would find him irresistible.

Wait a minute… wasn't the heart supposed to be on the left side of the chest?

Ah, whatever. What did he know about biology? The only thing he needed to know about the human body was how to look good in it. In that sense, mission accomplished.

He stepped out to greet his adoring audience. Weiss craned her head, looking him up and down.

"Interesting," she murmured. "I don't even dislike it. You've outdone yourself, Cafran."

"Naturally," Cafran scoffed. "How do you feel, Jaune?"

"Terrific," Jaune beamed. "I feel like a million lien… which is probably how much it costs."

"What did I tell you? This suit brings out the best in people, even if it has to dig deep inside of you to find your potential."

Jaune grinned a shit-eating- no, a waste-consuming grin. He was a classy gentleman now, and classy gentlemen didn't use vulgar language, even in thought.

"Walk for us," Cafran said. "Take command in your stride. Feel like you own the earth beneath your feet."

Jaune gladly walked up and down several times in a straight line. Power radiated from him with every step he took. This must have been how the great conquerors of old felt when they laid claim to the world.

The suit felt like it was breathing with him. Everything shifted perfectly to accompany his body's movements. He was a warrior of love, and this suit was to be his armour.

"I think that will be enough," Cafran said, satisfied with what he saw.

"Agreed, that suit will do perfectly," Weiss said. "Just make sure none of the buttons come undone on the night. None of us want to see the clown hiding beneath it all."

"This thing is amazing," Jaune breathed. "I don't want to take it off. I love it."

"That's good to hear," Cafran said. "Let's hope it feels the same way."

What?

"Uh, is that suit-talk for me making sure I don't have a wardrobe malfunction?" Jaune asked.

"No, I mean let's hope it allows you to wear it," Cafran answered casually. He stared at the suit like he was a scientist conducting an experiment.

"What do you mean allows me-?"

Jaune got no further. The shirt suddenly tightened around his chest and squeezed the air out of him. Jaune dropped to his knees, completely caught off guard by the sudden attack. He tried to move his limbs, but the clothes squeezed so tight that his arms were pinned to his side.

What the hell was happening? Did he suddenly get fat in a matter of seconds? The suit that once fit him perfectly now felt like he was trying to squeeze into clothes for toddlers.

"Jaune!" Weiss cried out. "What's happening to him?"

"I told you, the suit is one of a kind," Cafran said gleefully. "It doesn't just let anyone wear it. You have to earn that right."

Jaune watched in horror as the tie around his neck sprang to life. The tip of it turned around to look at him. It shuddered, reared its head back, and spat at him like it was a snake.

"Get… it… off…" Jaune struggled out.

"If I do pry it off you, you'll never be able to wear it again. It won't respect you," Cafran said.

"Don't care… want air…" Jaune wheezed.

"Air is what everyone else has. You don't want to be like everyone else. You want to be special. You want to look special. This suit will allow you to do that and more, but only if you prove your worth."

Jaune tried prying open the shirt buttons with his teeth. Moving them was like trying to move boulders.

"You need to focus," Cafran said. "Think about how good you looked and felt a few moments ago. Think about how good you look now. Imagine if you could feel that way long-term. Wouldn't that be glorious?"

The tie spat at him again.

"As insane as this sounds, Cafran has a point," Weiss said. "Even now, you still look sharp in that suit, Jaune. It would be a shame to discard it now."

Jaune spoke through gritted teeth. "I… I don't think-"

The tie yanked itself forward, making his head smack against the floor.

"Another doubt," Cafran tutted. "I might be forgiving of them, but this suit? Not so much. You need proof." He knelt down and pulled out a pocket mirror. "Tell me that the suit's not becoming on you, even now with your life slipping away."

Jaune looked at his reflection. Perhaps it was the lack of blood flowing to his head, but he could see where Weiss and Cafran were coming from. Even with his blue face and crumpled body, he still felt like the snazziest guy in the room. This suit really was a miracle worker.

"Looking… hot…" he choked.

"Exactly," Cafran said. "If that's how you look like now, imagine how you will look with control over your body. Everyone will be on their knees before you, much like how you are right now."

Such genius logic was impossible to argue against.

"What must he do?" Weiss asked.

"He must speak his intentions truthfully," Cafran stated. "This suit does not appreciate those who waste its time on droll affairs. It takes someone with a purpose to command it, someone who would wear it for something truly unique. If it finds your proposal acceptable, it will allow you to wear it."

"And… if not?" Jaune wheezed.

Cafran shrugged. "Then you will have to buy something else."

Jaune gasped, not from strangulation, but from terror. Not that! Anything but that!

He glared at the tie swaying menacingly in front of his face. This suit was too valuable to pass up. He was gonna have to step up and be a man if he wanted to own it.

He felt the shirt loosen on him slightly, allowing him to breathe. The tie hovered patiently before him. It wanted an answer.

Jaune had never been one for speaking the truth. Lying had gotten him this far already. But now, the truth was all that mattered. And it was the truth that left his lips.

"I will use you… for the upcoming Beacon Ball," he said nobly. "Together, we will turn heads, raise the roof, and look slick while doing it. But most of all… we will seduce my hot older teacher, who's age I'm still unsure about!"

Jaune awaited his fate without fear. He had made his intentions clear. What happened next was up to the Gods.

The tie quivered a few times… then relaxed and sheathed itself back into its normal position. The shirt stopped trying to squeeze him dry, giving his lungs and ribs much-needed relief. His body was his own again.

"The contract is sealed," Cafran whispered approvingly. "It has judged your intentions as righteous and pure. You have been chosen."

Jaune smiled and rose from the ground as a new man. With the power of his sick outfit, Goodwitch would be putty in his hands.

"That's what it finds pure?" Weiss grunted. "What a perverted suit."

[/]

Jaune felt strange in his normal clothes again. Wearing casual gear after wearing such perfection was hard, like getting out of bed when you reeaallly didn't wanna go to school in the morning. He couldn't wait to wear the suit again.

Speaking of the suit, they didn't need to carry it around with them. After Weiss had paid for it, he asked Cafran if it could be delivered to Beacon. Cafran had smiled and told him not to worry. It would find him when the time was right.

"Guess that takes care of that," Jaune said. "I take it we're going back to Beacon now? Maybe we could get some lunch here before we leave? I wanna know what rich people food tastes like."

"Don't get ahead of yourself, our business here isn't finished yet," Weiss said. "There's one last thing we've got to take care of first."

"What's that?"

Weiss reached up and pulled one of his long locks down before his eyes. "This," she clarified. "Explain this!"

Jaune winced. "Explain what? It's my hair, which you're kinda tugging a little hard now!"

"You expect to approach Goodwitch looking like this?" Weiss said. "At least Yang tries to comb her mane. You look like you use a wind turbine as a hairdryer!"

Jaune slapped her hand away. "Who cares? You saw how I looked in that suit. Goodwitch's not gonna notice my hair."

"And what's going to happen when you take off the suit, hm? When she realises that beneath that shiny exterior is still a bumbling boy? Do you still think she'll be as mesmerised?"

Jaune said nothing. She had a point. That suit was basically a male version of makeup. Take it away, and the truth is revealed.

"Exactly," Weiss said. "We've only solved half of the puzzle. That suit is a good appetizer, but we need something that keeps her sticking around for the main course. We need to tidy you up, make you look like a mature man with and without the suit."

"Oooh, it's like a makeover-"

Weiss quickly clamped her hand over his mouth. "Don't say that word," she hissed. "Yang and Nora might hear you. The last thing we need is them on this."

"Fine," he said when she removed her hand. "So, know anywhere that can doll me up?"

"As it just so happens, I do. I've thought of everything today. Right this way."

Weiss lead him through the streets until they approached another lavish-looking shop named Valentina's. A hair salon. Growing up with loads of sisters, he was no stranger to places like this. If they ever heard he was going to a fancy one like this, they'd be green with envy.

They stepped inside. The white marble floor contrasted well with the pitch-black walls. A chandelier hung from the ceiling because every rich person needed to own a chandelier. There were sinks. A lot of sinks. If it weren't for the throne-like chairs next to them, this place could've doubled as kitchen.

The two of them waited a few minutes before Weiss rang the bell on the counter.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming!" screamed an elderly voice from the back

A few seconds later, a tiny hunchbacked old woman dressed in rags wobbled her way over to them, her walking stick clattered loudly against the floor. She had a face like a witch out of a fairy tale; warts, a long crooked nose, teeth that looked like mini stalactites in her mouth. Hanging down her face was silvery hair that looked like spiders legs.

Jaune tried to keep his face as neutral as possible, but it was hard to hide his shock. Was this Valentina? She looked as misplaced as he did here. How was she going to freshen him up when she looked like she only recently rose from the dead?

"Miss Valentina, it is a pleasure to see you again," Weiss said.

Valentina raised a bony hand to her ear. "What was that?" she rasped.

"I said, it's a pleasure to see you again."

"I can't hear you! Speak up!"

"I SAID, IT'S A PLEASURE-"

"Alright, alright, no need to shout!" Valentina snapped, bonking her on the head with her stick. "And whaddya mean 'again'? Do I know you?"

"M-Madam, it's me. Weiss Schnee," Weiss said. "You stylised my family's hair for years."

Valentina blinked the crust out of her eyes. "Ah, yes, Schnee" she said. "I thought I smelt money walk in. A nose knows." She snorted loudly to prove her point.

"Y-Yes, quite," Weiss grimaced.

"So, whaddya want?" Valentina barked. "Hang on, what the hell is that ponytail you have right now? I know I didn't style that shit! Why's it all off-centred?"

"Um, well, it's more of an act of defiance than a hair goal," Weiss said. "To prove to my father that I'm not something he can control, I wear it this way as a way of demonstrating my freedom."

Valentina cackled. "What kind of pussy-ass example of teenage rebellion is that? Oh, I've missed you Schnees! Haven't had a laugh like that in years!"

Weiss' eye twitched. "Anyway," she said through forced politeness, "we're not here for me today. We're here because we need you to fix my friend here."

Aww, he and Weiss were friends.

"You're friend- oh!" Valentina's eyes widened when she saw him. "You brought a man? Well, why didn't you just say that? Gimme a second to freshen up."

Valentina hobbled her way towards one of the sinks. She turned on the taps and threw some water on her face. When she was done, she turned back to look at them.

Jaune's jaw nearly hit the floor. That water must've been from the fountain of youth because Valentina's appearance just did a complete one-eighty. The old hag was gone, and in her place was the most gorgeous woman Jaune had ever seen. Rich, wavy brown hair cascaded down her face like a river. Her blue eyes shone like clear pools. She was now as tall as him, wearing a tight black dress that hugged her perfect hourglass figure.

Her smile made him feel like his chest was filled with helium. "Now then," she purred with a voice like honey. "Why don't we start again? My name is Valentina. And who are you?"

Jaune gulped. How was this possible? She had just gone from 'nursing home' to 'hello, nurse!' "J-Jaune, my name is Jaune!" he stammered.

He nearly fainted from the sound of her giggle. She swayed over to him and took his face in her warm hands. Her creamy face was free from the warts that had littered her previous one. That crooked nose had shrunk into a smaller, softer one. Forget turning heads, this woman could make people's heads spin around until they flew off their necks.

"You have the most adorable stutter, has anyone ever told you that?" she said, pressing her body against his. Personal space was not a concept to her, something he was both grateful and terrified for.

He was so damn nervous, he couldn't even attempt a pickup line. "T-They've noticed alright, but they don't find it that cute," he squeaked.

"That's their loss then," she said, running a hand through his hair. "But then again, that leaves more of you for me."

Remember what she looked like before, Jaune! You only have eyes for Goodwitch! You're a one-woman man, damn it!

"Alright, enough of that!" Weiss snapped, coming in between them. "Gods, you haven't changed a bit! This is exactly like when you did my brother's hair!"

Valentina smiled at her. "There, there, my dear. I was only having a little fun. There's no need to get so worked up."

"Can you try to be professional for five seconds? I'm not paying you to flirt with him! If I wanted that, I would've taken him to a bordello!"

"Oh, honey, no one calls them that anymore," Valentina tutted. "You've been without love for a while now, haven't you? Not surprising, given that frosty demeanour of yours."

"Just give him a haircut and then will be done!"

"As you say." She pulled Jaune by the arm. "Why don't we go somewhere more private, Jaune? You know what they say about three being a crowd. Especially when they're as loud as her."

Weiss huffed and sat down in the waiting chair. Meanwhile, Jaune was dragged away into the backroom. The thought of being alone with Valentina excited him in a terrifying sort of way.

The backroom had the same chair and sink that was in the foyer, although soft music could be heard playing overhead. The air smelled like roses.

Valentina sat him down in the chair and put a sheet over him. She leaned down, draping her arms down past his neck. "So then, now that I have you all to myself, what's it going to be?" she whispered, her lips dangerously close to his ear. "Tell me your desires. I'll make them all come true."

Jaune took a deep breath. "There's someone I need to impress for the upcoming dance at Beacon," he said.

"Don't tell me. It's a girl, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"I should have guessed. It's only natural that such a handsome young man like you has already been claimed. I'll try not to feel jealous."

"Actually, we're not even dating yet. That's why I need to impress her. We're close, but I want something more."

"Oooh, even better," she said soothingly, tracing a finger under his chin. "There's nothing more romantic than the thrill of the chase. I promise, when I'm done with you, you'll look irresistible to her… well, her and just about everyone else you set your eyes on."

"That's great. See, I need something mature but stylish. What I'm thinking about is-"

She silenced him by pressing a finger to his lips. "Upupup. Don't you worry your adorable little head with the details. Just relax and let me do all the work."

Her arms pulled him back into the chair. He felt ensnared by her, like he was trapped in the vines of a rose. Beautiful to behold, but he was one thorn away from getting himself hurt.

She delicately held a strand of his hair in one hand, and a pair of scissors in the other. "This is the part where you close your eyes," she soothed. "Just let go, and imagine yourself in the arms of your lover. Focus on her voice, her smell, her touch. Lose yourself in her majesty."

He did as she commanded.

Snip

"And we're done," she said. "You can open your eyes now."

What? Already?

He opened his eyes and sure enough, she was right. His hair was completely different. His once messy locks had been parted in an elegant, wavy style, making each strand look much more defined rather than simply blending in with the rest of his hair. It was the kind of style he'd expect to see on an Atlesian upper-class gentleman, and was certainly not one he'd expect to look good on him. Until today.

But it wasn't just the hair on the top of his head that had changed. He had somehow in the span of a second grown a light stubble around his face, giving him and manly but neat look about him. Call him vain, but he looked like a goddamn heartthrob!

"What the- what?" he cried. "How did you do that?"

She giggled. "That's a trade secret, I'm afraid. Though if you keep visiting me, perhaps I can share it with you one day. What do you think? I take it it's to your liking?"

"To my liking? I've only seen this look on guys who've been under the edit filter for ten hours! I never thought I could look like this! This is everything I could've asked for!"

Valentina shrugged oh-so innocently. "What can I say? I always know how to leave someone feeling… satisfied…"

"See, look at that!" he exclaimed. "I can even take innuendos at face-value now! You see me blushing? Nope! This is the best!"

"My, my, you're quite the eager-beaver now, aren't you?" she laughed. "Your enthusiasm is positively infectious. When your lucky lady gets one look at you, you better get ready to catch her when she swoons."

There was no doubt about that. Goodwitch would no longer see him as just another school kid. She was gonna see him for the man he truly was.

"I don't know how I can ever repay you for this," Jaune said. "Oh, wait a minute, what am I saying? Of course, I do. Let's go get Weiss. She's the one with the millions."

They went back to the foyer. Weiss was waiting for them, leaning against the door. She hadn't bothered sitting down. She must've known how long this would take.

"Now then, if you're quite done-" she began.

Her snippy remark died the moment she took one look at Jaune. Soft blue eyes locked with icy ones. Silence echoed between them.

"Ta-da!" Jaune said, giving his hands a little wave. "Whaddya think? Don't I look great?"

Weiss blinked slowly, then quickly bowed her head, eyes glaring at the ground. A fierce scowl etched her face. "You did a good job," Weiss murmured to Valentina.

"Of course, I did!" Valentina barked. Jaune turned around and saw that she was back to her haggy old self again. "What, you think I need your approval on how to do my job? I don't need no squawking buzzard telling me when I've done good! Chirp your beak somewhere else, just pay me already!"

Weiss shuffled her way over to her and handed her a bunch of cash, making sure she avoided looking at Jaune at all times.

Valentina grinned wickedly at the lien in her hands. "This is the best way for you Schnees to thank someone- you put your money where your mouth is!"

She took a big sniff of the paper, running her nostrils across it. Her eyelids fluttered dreamily.

"We'll give you some privacy," Jaune said, ushering Weiss out the door. "Thanks for the fix-up!" he called back to her. "I swear to be an absolute playa from now on!"

Jaune and Weiss had accomplished much today. They had bought a killer suit, both figuratively and literally speaking, and given him a swanky new do. It was time for them to go home.

Jaune was buzzing as they walked down the street. "I can't get over how good I look!" he sang. "I feel like I can start pointing finger-guns at girls and be accepted for it. I'm gonna have random strangers ask me to pose in pics for them, I just know it!"

"You look impressive," Weiss muttered, eyes still glued to the ground. She was following behind him, keeping a good distance between them both.

"Goodwitch's gonna be all over me when she sees all this. I reckon her glasses will steam up when she gets one look at me. What kind of romantic do you think she is? Will she start blushing or stuttering, or does that not seem like something she'd do?"

"Who knows?"

Something was wrong. Weiss was never this short with her words. She was usually cattier. Jaune stopped and looked back at her. "Uh, Weiss? Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No. Why would something be wrong?" she mumbled.

"Well, you're not even looking at me. I've got this new look, and you're just staring at the ground."

"Maybe I like the ground? Maybe I'm admiring the cobblestones?" She started tapping her foot against the golden pavement. "Yes, that is very good ground…"

Jaune wasn't convinced. "Weiss, look at me," he said.

"I don't want to," she retorted. "I've been looking at you all day. I want to look at something else."

"Just for five seconds. Come on, pleeease?"

With a sigh, Weiss slowly raised her head. Yep, something was definitely different. She was frowning, which was something she did a lot in his presence, but her frowns never looked this nervous. Even though she had her head raised, she was still struggling to meet his eyes. And she was blushing. With her red face and white outfit, she looked like a walking thermometer.

Jaune could be dense. He admitted that. But even he knew how to put two and two together.

"No way!" he gasped.

Weiss huffed and crossed her arms, turning her head to the side. "Don't start getting the wrong idea."

"You think I'm hot too!" Jaune cheered.

"I most certainly do not!" she snapped.

"You're attracted to me!"

"Never in my life!"

"Riiiiiight. Then why are you blushing and acting all fidgety?"

"It's a physical reaction, nothing more. I still know you for the idiot you are, despite your - purely objectively speaking - handsome face."

Jaune clapped his hands. "Handsome! You said handsome just now! That's what you called me!"

"I said, objectively speaking!"

Jaune was so happy he felt like dancing in the streets, leaving Weiss to hide her embarrassed reaction in her hands. This was like a dream come true. If his charming new visage was enough to melt even the ice queen herself, Goodwitch didn't stand a chance.

"You know, Weiss, I'm flattered. Truly," he said, his voice the very definition of modest. He had to break her down gently after all. "Back in the day, I might have returned your advances. Alas, I'm spoken for. I hope we can still be friends."

"Hold your breath and suffocate yourself!" Weiss growled.

"Denial is the first step towards acceptance," Jaune winked. "Face it, Weiss Queen. You got a burning case of Arc fever! I don't blame you, it's nothing to be ashamed about."

Weiss' expression perked up. "Oh, keep doing that!" she said eagerly.

"What's the matter? Can't get enough of my voice either?"

"No. It's just the more you talk, the less attractive you become." Her frown was replaced by an expression of pure bliss. "I can already feel myself being repulsed by you again. What a wonderful sensation."

Jaune blew a raspberry at her.

It hasn't been a year since I last updated this, so that means I'm not a bad person. At least, not for that reason.

Jaune now has acquired some fancy new duds, as well as a swanky new haircut. Will it be enough to seduce Goodwitch? Can she see him for the man he truly is? How long will it be until Imyoshi breaks the word-count limit in his reviews?

Find out next time on Exxxtra Credit.