Cardin Winchester threw open the door the senior team leaders' lounge at Beacon. He was in high spirits, another successful mission under his belt, and he was damn well looking forward to telling the story to his fellow team leaders. Unfortunately, the room was empty now, a few chairs and a couch around a simple table, two desks and a computer terminal. It was supposed to be a place for coordinating cross-team strategies, but they'd mostly used it as a private clubhouse. A place to talk about the important things, like how their team members seemed to be personally committed to driving each one of them insane.

But it was also a place of history. All across the walls, small photos of previous team leaders were scattered around. Quick headshots, nothing too formal or posed, and yet, as a record of who'd passed through before him, they felt incredibly weighty. Some of them, frozen in faded snapshots, were legendary heroes, the figures he grew up hearing stories about and dreaming of living up to their legend. Others were more immediate—there was more than one Winchester on the wall, and no matter how casually they used the space, he always felt their eyes on him. Particularly Coco Adel's, placed over one of the terminals and showing her flashing a peace sign. She'd taken the three of them under her wing last year, and he was sad to see her go.

He knew the other two would be joining him shortly as he plopped himself down on the comfiest of the beat-up old chairs. It had been a while since he'd seen the both of them together, ever since they started their fourth year, really. It was rare that all three of their teams would have their downtimes overlap, as a fourth year's schedule was mostly fieldwork. Often long and labor-intensive missions—not always dangerous, but usually requiring a lot more autonomy than less experienced students could be trusted with. More bullshit, too. He'd had his fair share of experiences with camping in mud, fighting mosquitoes as much as Grimm, and arguing with obstinate local leaders who refused to cooperate with Huntsmen-in-training.

Whatever glory he expected when he came into Beacon, reality had been quick to quash. Along with a lot of other things he expected as a first year. He was feeling… not nostalgic, thinking of his first year at Beacon was thinking about a whole lot of regrets and hard lessons learned, but it wasn't just shame he felt. He was appreciative, he guessed, appreciative of all he'd learned and how much he'd changed.

And one of the biggest causes of that change had just stumbled into the room.

Jaune Arc, leader of Team JNPR, and looking well more like the walking dead than an accomplished Huntsman and leader. Tall and broad shouldered, carrying his ancestor's legendary sword, he'd look like the very image of a hero of Remnant if it wasn't for his bleary-eyed expression and the fact that he dressed like shit. Cardin liked to think that team leaders had a duty to look a cut above the rest, to make sure civilian authorities knew who to address (and grateful ladies knew who to thank), and in that regard, Jaune did not impress. But he knew very well that Arc was capable of change, of growing into the role. He just had to make fun of his hoodies a little longer and soon, he'd be middling-to-okay.

But before he could make a crack at his expense, Cardin noticed the six-pack dangling in his hands. "Jaune, my man, my brother!" He pulled him into a bro hug and helped himself to a beer. "You're a king among men, Jauney boy."

"Figured we could all use a drink. This month has been crazy." He couldn't disagree there. There'd be a spike in Grimm activity across Vale, which, while it hadn't caused his team any problems on the mission, it had meant having their mission field reprioritized, like, three different times. A nuisance, really, but… Something in his gut told him that something was getting worse, that something big was coming. But it could also just be paranoia. The leaders-eye view risked seeing patterns and dangers where there were none, and it'd been drilled into his head that paranoia could be as dangerous as naivete. Besides: no use fretting about things you can't control. There's was but to do or die, after all.

"Well," he cracked open the bottle, one of those fancy hipster microbrews that he probably got recommended by Ren, but hey, beer was beer, and it made a satisfying pop as he snapped off the cap, "Open up, man. How'd the mission go?"

Jaune rubbed his arm awkwardly. "Kind of rather not say."

"Ah, any mission you come back from is a successful mission." He punched him in the arm, to which Jaune winced, dully adding an "Ow" as he grabbed his seat.

Cardin knew it was more reflex than actual pain. Jaune might not have been physically the strongest fighter in his year (himself, Nora, Yang, in that order), or the most skilled (Pyrrha, admittedly, pretty much by herself there), but there was nobody in this field who even came close in terms of his ability to take hits. He had always been a defensive fighter, and his aura reserves, which started as "excessive" and had grown into "ludicrous," made him an absolute tank in a fight. In a mixed doubles match of Cardin and Nora versus Jaune and Russel, it'd taken the both of them absolutely hammering him with blows until his aura broke. Nora had even juiced herself with Lightning Dust to get there, and he'd taxed his Semblance to the point he thought his arms would fall off, and they still had to absolutely wail on him. Left them both exhausted and taught him to establish a rule for Team CRDL: in a 1-on-1 for Goodwitch's class, they had 3-5 minutes to beat Jaune via ring out, and if they couldn't do that, they were to forfeit immediately. If you couldn't win in five, you weren't gonna win in a hundred. They'd already lost, or worse, they'd be stuck spending all day watching blows glance off of him.

"Actually, Jaune…" Though these meetings were generally more hangouts and a chance to bitch about their lunatic teammates, being team leaders meant they dealt with some of the inescapable realities of a Huntsman's work. "I did notice on the Infirmary roster that Nora's in for a few days, but no injuries listed. Sounded minor, but…"

He shook his head no. "No, it's not anything serious. More the, uh…"

"Stupid kind of injury?"

"Bingo. So," he sighed "Pyrrha had the idea if I supercharged her Semblance, she would be able to manipulate electromagnetism enough to cause a, uh, lightning bolt, a really, really big one, to hit Nora and set her Semblance into a crazy overdrive."

"Brothers." He almost didn't have words for it. It was an astonishingly bad idea, on just about every level, the sort of idea he wouldn't have expected from Pyrrha of all people. Nora, that would make sense, she was the obvious source of chaos, and Jaune's plans had a dark history of going past what was sensible, but Pyrrha was Jaune's Dove, his voice of reason. Well, maybe Ren was more that, but most of his voice of reason work was dedicated to keeping Nora from, like, crashing a Bullhead into a Grimm nest to see what color explosion it would make.

"But, yeah, it worked, and Nora pretty much leveled… everything after that. She's still burning off some of that excess power, so she's out of commission until she's back to her normal levels. Or at least until you can touch her without getting zapped by static."

He'd have to make a note about that. 100% chance that, for as long as she was a human joy buzzer, Nora would be trying to shake anyone's hand who got in arm's reach. If he was feeling charitable, he might even give his team the heads up as well. "She's enjoying that, I'd bet."

Jaune, though, gave him a heavy-lidded stare. "I can't imagine what makes you think that."

He had to laugh a bit, though. "So I'm guessing Pyrrha's on your case about perfecting that tactic, eh?"

Jaune's stare remained as blank as before. "You mean my team's hyper-competitive perfectionist? Who just learned a new technique to master? That Pyrrha? She's already scheduled me for three additional hours of practice tomorrow to refine the move until she can, and I quote, 'use lighting offensively in the field like a vengeful god.'"

A terrifying thought, but he figured it best not to reveal that Pyrrha still intimidated the hell out of him. Jaune had apparently discovered in their first year that Pyrrha was holding back, and then taught her not to do that, leading to the point where pretty much everyone was terrified of her in the ring. But no use letting Jaune know that. "Oh, boo-hoo, you're going to spend three hours getting to run your hands all over a gorgeous redhead. Hey, but speaking of girls-"

"That's hardly even a segue!"

"It's close enough! You know I'm not going to miss a chance to brag about my mission! Or at least…" he grinned, "the fun parts of it! We were out in a town called Vacca, named for the dairy farms stretching as far as the eye can see, and-"

"Let me guess," Jaune groaned, "there was a milkmaid, who-"

"No Jaune, there was not a milkmaid." He scolded, then broke into a wide grin and cast his arms out in wonderment, "I'm talking about twin milkmaids! Ever so eager to meet a real Huntsman and thank him for saving their town from this vicious pair of Elder Beringels that had been eluding local patrols and filling their nights with terror! But that's not the important part. Well, Dove got thrown in a tree and got stuck there, that was funny. But no, the important part was, how was I going to satisfy these women? Well, I may be-"

"You're trash, man," Jaune laughed. "Just trash."

"Perhaps, but honest trash, Jauney boy. Why, from what I've heard of your exploits, you've become something of a Beacon legend…"

Jaune scowled in exasperation. "Oh, for the last time, people just exaggerate-"

But he didn't have time to listen to Jaune's griping.

"The second coming of Taiyang Xiao Long!" Cardin proclaimed, leaping up from his seat, "The hero of the third floor girl's bathroom wall! Beacon's next top manwhore! Watch as he pulls off the quest to bed literally-"

At that, they were interrupted as the last of their group exploded into the room, in her usual, Semblance-enhanced way. Nothing ever happened in half measures with Ruby-goddamn-Rose. She didn't walk; she sprinted. She didn't complete missions; she crushed them. And she didn't open doors; she burst right through them, a shower of rose petals heralding her arrival.

It had taken him a long time to come around to the fact, but Cardin knew he was right now in the presence of a living legend. Sure, Pyrrha had her tournament dominance, and Cardin had personally picked up quite a fan club from his own adventures, but both teams knew they were small fries next to RWBY. They'd been doing more and bigger things since they first got to Beacon, and they sure hadn't slowed down. It was, he knew, a rare privilege to have her consider them equals. So of course, Jaune and Cardin both made a point to always show her how unimpressed they were with all her accomplishments.

"Hey Ruby," he yawned.

Jaune added a "Sup, Crater Face," as the both of them idly looked up at her.

"What?" She cocked her head, "What are you both staring at?"

"Oh, nothing." Jaune shrugged, "We're just waiting for you to tell us about the conspiracy against Vale you just foiled."

"Or the legendary Grimm you killed."

"Or maybe you had to bring down an Atlesian war machine hijacked by a legendary criminal mastermind."

"Or maybe you guys achieved universal Faunus equality. You know," he rolled his eyes, "typical RWBY fare."

She stamped her foot and pouted, an act that reminded Cardin that, even at 19, she was still Ruby Rose. "They're not always like that!"

"Yes." Jaune deadpanned. "They are. I can start listing your last ten missions, or you can tell us what went down this time."

"Ugh!" She threw up her hands in exasperation. "It was a total milk run! Biggest thing we saw the whole time was an Ursa, and because Weiss got it, Yang spent the whole trip whining about how bored she was!"

"And that drove-"

"Drove Blake crazy? How could you have guessed?" Now it was Ruby's turn to deadpan. "Hey, did you hear? They broke up again! We're. All. So. Shocked."

The turbulent dating life of Blake and Yang was a frequent topic of discussion among the leaders. They'd all long since accepted that the two were basically made for each other and to just let both of the hotheads work their way through whatever blow up fight they'd had on their own terms. He'd learned the hard way it was extremely unwise to catch either of them on the rebound. Oh, it had been a good time, that's for sure, but the fallout… Well, he'd probably have to warn Sky and Russell not to touch the hot stove here. They would definitely get burned.

"I'll tell Pyrrha to try and Girls Night 'em." Jaune was already making a note on his scroll. It was times like these that Cardin truly did appreciate his teammates, for not being insane drama magnets like literally every woman who set foot on this storied campus. "Nora's out for now, or I'd have her help, too. Though," he hummed pensively, "last time I put her on breakup duty, it ended with, well, you know…"

They all nodded, soberly. Avoiding a repeat of The Night That Would Not Be Spoken Of was one of the few ironclad laws they all agreed on—leaders, their teammates, and teachers.

Ugh, when did they get so dour? Time to lighten the mood, the Cardin way! "You see, this is why I think dating's for chumps. One night stands with grateful maidens is all the fun with none-" He stopped himself as he noticed Jaune seem to startle at a certain word. "Ohhhh, do you, perhaps, have a story to share with us about a 'grateful Maiden,' Mr. Arc?" He made sure to convey with emphasis that he meant it with a capital letter.

"I- you- how do you even know about the Maidens?"

"~Not hearing a denial~" he sang back at him, "~Knew you were traaaaash~"

"Don't bother, Cardin," Ruby griped, "Story's lamer than you'd- Ooh, who brought beer!" She reached for a bottle of her own, "Can I- ugh, an IPA? It's one of Ren's, isn't it?"

Jaune threw his arms up in annoyance. "I have no idea why you guys are always ragging on Ren's tastes. He finds good stuff!"

"Because it takes beer, which already tastes yucky, and then puts, like a rubber band ball in the cask. For some insane reason!"

"She does have a point: it is hipster garbage," Cardin offered, sagely, "though I have to ask, Ruby, I'm not sure what stage of the brewing process involves a rubber band ball."

"I'm not a beer… expert… guy. You know the word I'm looking for!"

"Yeah, I said it already, 'garbage hipster.' You know several. One is even in the room right now!"

"It's good beer!" Jaune whined. "And I paid for it, so I don't know why you're whining, Mr. Brand Name Lagers and Ms. Wine Coolers."

Oh, he had crossed a line. Ruby turned to Cardin with a smile. "So, Mr. Brand Name Lagers," she began, "What say we kick his hipster ass?"

"Sounds delightful, Ms. Wine Coolers." He slammed his fist into his palm, "Don't worry, Jauney boy, this'll be a bespoke, handcrafted beatdown."

"Using the finest artisanal punches!" Ruby yelled as she jumped on top of him and started flailing away, leaving Cardin to laugh as he struggled to deflect a hundred tiny blows.

"Ow, Ruby- ow, I- Ruby!"

"Nope! You gotta take it back!" now she had a wicked grin as she kept flailing, "And you gotta make it up to me! Say I'm better than Pyrrha!"

Something about that suddenly made Jaune get serious. He caught her arms, stopping the blows. "Whoa, Ruby! Uncalled for! Party foul!"

She stuck her tongue out. "Don't act like you don't know it's true."

"What the hell, Ruby? What's your issue with Pyrrha? She hasn't-"

Ugh, of course they had to take the fun of a fistfight and bring their drama into it. "Hey, hey, hey!" he shouted over the argument, "Guys—remember what Coco told us, on her last day at Beacon," as he gestured to the placard Coco had left them hanging on the wall. Beneath the bold letters proclaiming "REMEMBER THE REAL ENEMY" was nine photographs: the headshots of each of their teammates. "That wisdom, passed down from team leader to team leader across generations. We might fight each other, but when it comes to those nine, we are a unified front."

The two of them looked chastened, which was something of a heartening experience for Cardin. Three years ago, the idea of calling those two out would be valued for the opportunity to wield power over them, to prove that he was the best of them all. But now, he saw that they looked to him as a peer, someone they respected as an equal. It was something much more valuable.

"…Sorry Jaune."

"It's okay, Ruby," he sighed, "And, uh, sorry I was, uh, a garbage hipster."

"It's cool, man, free beer is the best beer," though he had to admit, Ruby might have had a point with the rubber bands, "But so long as we remember that we're all friends here, we're good."

At that, Jaune teased him with an in-joke at his expense from last year's dance, which set off an avalanche of reminiscing. They swapped stories, reminding each other of goofy misadventures and, having a good laugh at their teammates, and their own, foolishness, and the kind of good-natured ribbing Cardin had gotten used to with his friends.

But after a while, Ruby glanced at the wall clock. "Well, I'd really like to stay and chat, but I've got to get going. I'm sure Blake and Yang are gonna be in a rush to be the first to get my shoulder to cry on. Lucky me," she said, unenthusiastically.

"Oh, speaking of," Cardin suddenly remembered, "when you see Blake, let her know I'm in for Thursday, I just rescheduled my meeting with Peach."

Ruby perked up a little at that. "Oh, great! Yeah, she'll actually be really happy to hear that. It means a lot to her that, you know, you're willing to speak."

"What can I say?" He shrugged, "If I had better role models on this when I was a kid, I'd probably have been a very different person."

"Shit, is that this Thursday?" Jaune groaned, "Completely forgot the rally. Man, and I thought I had a night off."

"Come on, Jauney boy," he teased, "You should know that we never get a night off!"

He and Ruby had a good laugh about that as Jaune grumbled. But they had things to do and places to be. Reports needed to be filed, teammates debriefed, and schedules to be checked, updated, double-checked, and re-updated. Not to mention the regular duties of practice and training—have to set a good example for their teammates.

As they exited the room, Jaune and Ruby playfully bickering over a recent movie, he took a moment to pause at the doorway. He glanced back to the room, looking at the wall of photos staring back at him. He might not be there yet, but… he'd made progress. And not long from now, his own snapshot would be up on that wall, with Jaune and Ruby, looking down over another generation of team leaders.

A nice thought, that. But, as he smiled and closed the door behind him, still a long ways away, and more than enough work between then and now. Might as well get to it.