Chapter 1: I wanna be a champion

Never give up.

When he struggled for breath and was crumpled on the ground, when he felt the cold floor on his cheek, Jaune would remember those words.

He'd taught himself that. He held to it as though he'd sworn it on his life. Jaune thought, if he held true to his promise, he could be someone one day.

He never stopped trying.

But then, he'd never been in this situation before, had he?

Jaune swirled the water in his glass - his fifth cup, and it a cool respite amongst stuffy smoke in the air. Bodies were all over the dance floor, music on the verge of ear shattering - if only it was louder. He could still hear his thoughts.

But he needed the escape, even if he hadn't done anything other than sit at the bar and swallow his sorrows.

It was easier than facing Pyrrha's scrutiny.

Couldn't she see he wasn't ready for this? Nevermind the fact that he'd cheated his way into Beacon, with naught but a sword and stroke of good fortune. His lack of optimal training was the killer, and without it, he didn't stand a chance.

The most he'd do was embarrass himself, and even though that wasn't new to him, it didn't mean he wanted to throw himself into the fire. The others would do great and by seeing them do well, maybe he could live vicariously through them. It was fine.

He wasn't made for the spotlight anyway.

"Want a refill, honey?" the bartender asked, a sweet older woman who'd been just kind or oblivious enough to ignore his sour mood. It felt like at the end of the day, his problems were small compared to the bigger world.

"No, I think I'm good. Thanks." Jaune went for the exit, and threw on his hood before stepping into the rain.

It was fine this way. He didn't need to enter the tournament.

What difference would it even make?

~TA~

"This is gonna be so awesome!"

Jaune couldn't resist a smile as Ruby skipped and twirled. If her big, goofy grin wasn't enough of an indication, she'd been total enthralled with the assembly.

But it wasn't just her, even as the entire school left the building, it was an uproar of excitement. And why wouldn't they be?

The Vytal Tournament was in a few weeks.

"It is time to kick butt and take names!" Yang said with gusto, whipping around to face her target. Her finger shot toward Pyrrha, "I hope you're ready, P-money, I'm about to snatch first place right out of your hands!"

"H-hold on," Pyrrha waved her hands in front of her, "there's no guarantee I'll make it past the preliminaries..."

"You're a great fighter Pyrrha, but a shitty liar."

"I-I'm not lying!"

Jaune listened to them go on. Yang would milk that until Pyrrha was sick of it, but she was still right, there's no way Pyrrha wouldn't make it to the finals. Nora pushed between them, puffing out her chest as though the spotlight was on her.

"Move aside, you peasants!" She announced boldy, "We all know who the real winner of this shindiggity will be!"

"Doesn't that mean you've gotta beat your little Renny-bear though?"

"I'm a tough lover."

"I should hope you are. It's an integral part of a Huntress-in-trainings career," Weiss suddenly spoke up, "The whole world will be watching, this is not only a competition. This is a presentation to the people of the strength of their future protectors, which means all eyes will be on those in finals."

"Don't worry, Weiss-cream. You're big and strong. I'm sure you'll make it into Top 8." Yang rubbed the heriess's hair, much to her chagrin.

"I shall settle for nothing less than first place, you buffoon."

"Hah, good luck, that means you'll have to get past me!"

"I like my chances then."

"Is that a challenge?"

Jaune shook his head as the girls fell into their usual bickering. He might have watched Yang pull Weiss into a headlock but for his partner nudging his shoulder.

"Are you excited for the tournament, Jaune?"

"Uh, yeah..." Jaune rubbed his neck, avoiding her gaze, "I guess. It's gonna be fun to watch."

Pyrrha's eyebrows rose. "Watch?"

Jaune smiled a weak smile. "Yeah... I don't think I'm gonna enter."

~TA~

The can clattered on the ground as Jaune kicked it again.

Even when the evening settled, Vale was still rampant with talk of the festival. Everywhere he went, people were talking about it. Huntsmen were going to look for potential trainees to take into their guilds when they graduated. Organizations and sponsors that used Huntsmen services would be looking for fresh potential.

Merchandise was already being made, he even heard that some businesses would be closed on the days of the tournament just to watch it.

Weiss was right. It wasn't just a tournament, it was a spectacle, a sneak peak at the heroes of tomorrow.

But so what? It didn't matter to him.

Jaune just wanted to be a Huntsman, he didn't really care about being the best one. What did having that title even amount to in the end?

That's why he never complained when he lost in sparring matches. What right did he have to be upset? His opponents were better than him, and fighting wasn't something he was good at anyway. Jaune never tried to hold himself to a greater standard than what he could reasonably achieve.

If he never expected anything of himself, he couldn't be disappointed when he failed. It was foolproof. Pathetic, maybe, but at the very least it protected whatever pride he could still muster.

And then it came again. The feeling of lying on the ground, tasting the floor while his opponent stood above him. He recalled his weak knees, his shaking hands - from sadness? Fear?

No, the feeling was hotter, it made him grind his teeth. It made him want to get up again and show his foe that he wasn't yet defeated.

But the most he usually accomplished was lasting longer than most. In the end, it hardly mattered if every other aspect of his abilities was subpar. It made him wonder why he never forfeited, one was allowed to surrender in the matches, all they needed to do was raise their hand.

Instead he raised his sword.

Only for it, and him, to be knocked onto the floor once again. But he'd still tried.

For a long time, he thought that was what made the difference. That if he tried hard enough, if he believed in himself, put in the work and never surrendered, maybe he'd pull off that win. Maybe he'd get to feel like a winner.

But one could only fail so many times before the confidence in those thoughts began to die.

The world was not a fair place. And so it made sense that not all men were equal.

Some people were made to be great, and the rest stayed insignificant. The winners and the losers. The latter was Jaune, and he was okay with that.

He really was.

The Jaune that kept getting up was the real idiot, he should have understood that no matter what he did, nothing would change.

Jaune kicked the can harder this time.

~TA~

"Because it would be pointless!"

He hadn't meant to yell, and seeing the way his partner flinched, it made him feel awful for doing so. Ren's and Nora's eyes were on him, spooked to attention at his sudden scream.

Jaune sighed. "I'm fine with just watching. I don't need to enter, besides if you don't win it, then it'll probably be Yang or someone else. And I can't beat them so why even bother?"

"Jaune, you don't know for certain what will happen. I think you should enter, your training has been going well, hasn't it?"

It wasn't enough, not even close. Their entire year was entering the tournament. Vacuo, Mistral, Atlas - all of their best first years were here and Jaune doubted they came this far to go home empty-handed. Everyone who entered planned to show the world who they were and what they could do.

What could Jaune show them? How to scream when his ass was on fire?

"i'm going to lose - that's obvious. There's no point in trying."

"There is a point! People will get to see how strong you really are, this is your best chance for you, for everyone, to prove themselves. I'm confident you will do well, Jaune."

"Yeah, well I'm not, okay?"

And as if he'd ripped any fight left out of her, Pyrrha was stunned. Bewildered like these were words she never expected out of him. Maybe he was too, that she could have such honest faith in him.

Pyrrha was sweet and kind. She dedicated so much time to helping him get better with no reward for herself, if anything, she was one of the few people who truly believed in him.

But she was wrong. Her words were hollow to him. Pyrrha could, and mostly likely would, win the tournament.

Jaune couldn't. And that was reality.

Which was fine, he could accept that - whether it pissed him off or not was irrelevant. "I'm going for a walk."

"Jaune, please just -

The door slammed before she could finish.

~TA~

What did Pyrrha expect?

Jaune couldn't help but feel angry. At her, at the tournament - screw it, the entire freaking world! Where did the faith come from? Was he the only one seeing the truth?

Even with Pyrrha help these past few months, Jaune still managed to fail. Whenever he lost in the ring, or didn't learn a technique she'd been teaching him for days, he couldn't look at her. He couldn't hear her encourage him to try again and not feel like shit.

He was going to let her down. If he entered the tournament, he'd soil her name with his performance. Many people now whispered about how Pyrrha Nikos had a failure of a partner, someone who didn't deserve to stand beside her. Pyrrha may not care what those people said, but Jaune did.

And not just her, this tournament represented the Huntsmen everywhere, and if people saw him being kicked around like a ragdoll, what would that say about his class? About the future of the Huntsmen?

Jaune felt he'd only bring them down with him. So it was best to go down alone.

The wind blew with the slow drizzle, Jaune just letting it splash his face to absorb the cold. He welcomed it, as it made that hot feeling in his heart not so painful. In fact, in the cool feeling, Jaune dared to think of a more positive outlook.

Even if he knew he would fail, what would it be like if he didn't? He'd think about that from time to time, fantasize about it every time he got through a hard day of training.

What would it feel like to beat Blake? Or Yang?

Or Pyrrha?

He could hear the crowd - a wave of applause as he appeared on the big screen. Jaune felt like he could soak it all up, fill him in a way that left him hungry for nothing else. Huntsmen from all over would look at him and think "That kid is the future" and "He'll be one of the greatest."

And in that moment, he could finally think that he deserved it. That he belonged at Beacon Academy.

But then the applause was gone - the people, the stadium, the trumpets, it all faded away. And he was back on the street, cars zooming on the overpass and only music to be heard was the rain pattering the pavement.

Jaune's smile dropped. How pathetic, just the thought of winning made him feel so good inside. But he wasn't going to win, so there was nothing to be happy about. It'd be satisfying enough to see one of his friends win. And Jaune would be fine in the background, clapping for them. No expectations, no responsibilities, no shining moment.

And that was perfectly fine.

Jaune continued down the road, letting drops of rain fall on his face as he listened to the sound of the city. Maybe if he was quick enough, he could catch a car and just let it take him someplace. It didn't matter where, so long as it wasn't here anymore.

He wanted to run. He was running. But he wasn't going to get away, not because he couldn't, but because he there wasn't anywhere to run to.

With most things, he knew that once the night was over, he'd feel better. He wouldn't care anymore.

Jaune grabbed a railing.

A small one that lead to an apartment complex, creating a small corner that could be occupied by any one person. A place no one would bother him. Where he could be easily ignored by the passersby.

Good enough.

Jaune sat in the corner, both arms wrapped around one leg. His leaned his head back, staring emptily at the dead sky.

He couldn't cry for some reason, maybe because he felt numb or too resigned to let out any emotion. But it felt good that think that the angels were crying for him.

The tournament was just a wake up call to his inferiority. But he knew that now, at least by not entering, he felt like he was in control. That he had decided what his fate would be before it could be slapped in his face.

"Hey, what's a kid like you doing out here?"

Jaune turned to see a man standing on the porch, back to him. He leaned against the railing himself with a cigar in hand.

"Nothing." Jaune responded hoarsely.

"Nah, it's never nothing. Thing is, people don't really come out here just to sit in a corner in the rain. You look like a teen angst protagonist."

"Or maybe I just want to be alone - and you're kind of in the way of it."

"Sheesh, no need to bite. I was just curious, kid."

Silence passed between them, with only the sounds of him puffing out smoke to interrupt it. Jaune looked at him again. He was just a stranger, its not like Jaune lost anything by just talking to him. Maybe he could at least blow off some steam with someone he'd never see again.

"I'm a little bummed out about the tournament. D'you know about it?"

"I live on Remnant, don't I?"

Jaune rolled his eyes. "My friend wanted me to enter, but... I'm not gonna do well. I know she thinks I can but she doesn't get it."

"Get it?"

"That there's no point in me trying, I'm gonna lose so it doesn't matter."

"Hm..." He gave a slow nod, "you're right, that makes sense."

Jaune's heart fell. "I-it does?"

"Yeah. If you already know what'll happen, why waste your time?"

Exactly, that's what he'd told Pyrrha. Jaune agreed wholeheartedly... so why did he feel that answer wasn't enough?

"I mean, I want to do good. I wanna be able to try my best but, that hardly amounts to what everyone else is capable of. I'm a weakling. The most I'd do is humiliate myself in front of the entire world so why even try?"

"Why try?" The man repeated, as if contemplating the words, letting the smoke slip out of his mouth. "You've got it all figured out now, don't you?"

For some reason that irked him, and Jaune wondered if the man was smirking. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said. You have your answer, you know what you have to do. Why linger on it anymore?"

"Because I -" And Jaune stopped. Because what? What was he going to say?

"You're an idiot like the rest of 'em," The man drawled, "Tell me, have you ever thought you might be able to win? Have you at least considered it?"

He had. Whenever he hit a milestone in his training, whenever he learned something new, he'd think he was catching up. He'd imagine winning one day. Of climbing through the ranks and being the best he could be.

But they were just fantasies, there was no way he could pull them off in the tournament. So he wasn't going to enter.

"Yeah, I did."

"But you don't want to try?"

"What's the point?"

"Maybe there isn't a point, but maybe there is." The man shrugged, "What artist looks at their work and thinks 'that's good enough'. What mechanic finds a flaw in a machine and doesn't try to fix it? Some, sure, but those aren't the ones that get the promotion."

The man nodded as if reminding himself of that. "We've got very limited time in this world, so I take what I need. And what I want. No one cares for a street rat, so what is he to do? Crawl up in a corner and wait to die? No, that's what idiots and quitters do. I'm neither."

"I did what I told myself to do. I was a plucky little shit, good with my hands. And I made mistakes, but I also learned. Now, I've got everything I need, and the world keeps turning, so there is even more to want. And I'm not afraid to get out there and take it."

The man paused for a moment, as though he needed to find the right words to continue. "You want to be a winner, kid? Then quit whining. Roll up your sleeves and get to work."

"I... I'll fail."

"I'm not saying you'll win. In fact, I doubt a guy like you even has a chance."

"Thanks..."

"But I'm not saying you'll lose, either. So stop with your pity party, it's irritating." The man looked over, pointing his cigar at him, "Don't be the guy that lets good things slip away, and don't let your fear convince you not to fight for what you want."

Jaune just stared. Enticed by the single green eye that bore into his blue. There was a story there, hardship - someone who scraped the bottom of the barrel until he could build a kingdom.

That's what Jaune wanted.

"Build a palace out of the mud. Scrape strength out of blood and tears. You want to taste victory, so why are you out here wasting time?"

Jaune's mouth opened, but he found that he had nothing to say. Unsure what to make of his brazen but hardened advice. He made it sound so simple, like it the most obvious answer to his problem.

But it couldn't be. Right?

"Or you could just be the street rat, sit in your little corner and die," Then man flicked away his cigar, adjusting his hat as he walked off, "But if you ask me, that's a shitty way to go out."

Jaune stood, watching the man walk off. Was that all he had to say? Was it really as simple as he was making it sound?

No, it wasn't simple. He wasn't saying that at all.

"Who are you?" Jaune called out.

But he'd already vanished.

~TA~

Pyrrha's eyes flew open as soon as she heard the door creak. Thankfully she'd left a light on, otherwise she might not have seen his face.

"You're still awake?" Jaune asked, hair slicked to his face.

"Yes, I was waiting for you," Pyrrha sat up, "I wanted to say I'm sorry for earlier. It wasn't right to put so much pressure on you... I just wanted you to try. I wanted you to see the fruits of your training in a real competition, but I failed to take your feelings into consideration."

It was a failing of hers that she didn't expect to come out. She still thought Jaune was making a mistake, but it was out of her hands, she had to respect whatever choice he made.

"No, I'm sorry, Pyrrha." Jaune shook his head, "You were right. I need to try, no matter how much I think it won't matter. I shouldn't have let my anger out on you when you just wanted to help. So, I'm sorry - I should have listened to you."

Wait, really? Well, thats was great! Did that mean he...?

"I-it's fine, so... does that mean you are going to compete?"

"Better." Jaune said, shrouding them in darkness upon turning off the light. The boy laid on his bed, and even though Pyrrha couldn't see his face, it didn't take away the power in his last words of the night.

"I'm gonna win."

Welcome readers to my new fic, Tournament Arc.

The way the tournament was handled in canon wasn't exactly a flaw since its entire purpose served the larger plot, in that sense the tournament didn't have any real stakes or reasons for the MCs to win it.

So lets take out the main plot and make the tournament important.

So this story focuses on Jaune, but also other characters who want to win the tournament. I will say though that this will not be the same style tournament as we've seen in canon.

Hopefully you enjoyed it and I'll see you in the next one.

ISA