Morning crept into the house quietly, announced not by light but scent. Warm and sweet—the smell was unmistakable. Jaune followed it down the stairs barefoot, one hand trailing along the banister as the smell of waffles thickened with every step. Butter, batter and something faintly savory underneath. It wrapped around him like an invitation he hadn't known he needed.
Ren stood at the stove when Jaune reached the kitchen.
He wore a simple black tank top and a pair of shorts, a casual ensemble. Though nothing about his physique could ever be called casual. His frame was lean yet solid, sculpted by years of disciplined training. His shoulders were broad, trapezius muscles widely from his collarbones, triceps flexing smoothly each time he lifted the spatula. The movement was precise and graceful. He flipped a waffle with a neat flick of the wrist and caught it cleanly, before sprinkling a small pinch of salt onto the surface of the one set aside on a separate plate.
Jaune slowed, mildly impressed despite himself.
Ren glanced over and smiled. "Morning."
"Sup," Jaune replied, voice still gravelly as he slipped past him toward the counter. He reached for the coffee pot like it was a life raft.
The ritual began automatically. Filter into the machine. Grounds scooped carefully, not too much, not too little. Water measured, poured, the lid closed with a soft click. Jaune leaned against the counter while it brewed, listening to the low gurgle and hiss, shoulders loosening as the first drops began to drip into the pot.
Behind him, Ren continued working with quiet focus, flipping waffles, checking heat, humming faintly under his breath.
Jaune glanced back over his shoulder. "Those for Nora?"
Ren's smile softened immediately. "Yeah. She likes them extra crispy."
"I should have guessed." Jaune paused, then added lightly, "You do realize you are spoiling her?"
Ren chuckled. "I am well aware."
He slid another waffle onto the plate, then nodded toward Jaune. "I am making a batch for you too."
Jaune considered this, then shook his head. "Actually… I think I am craving pancakes more than waffles today."
Ren laughed quietly and reached out to pat Jaune's back as he passed. "Tomorrow, then. Pancakes for both of us."
Jaune lifted an eyebrow. "Tomorrow?"
Ren turned another waffle. "Consider it as... my rent payment."
That earned a snort. "You cook, you clean and somehow you make this place quieter. You are already overpaying."
Ren's expression softened again, this time more sincere. "Still. Thank you. For letting us stay."
Jaune waved a hand dismissively as the coffee finished brewing. He poured himself a mug, the steam rising thick and comforting. "Don't worry about it Ren. I'm happy to have the two of you here."
Ren hesitated just slightly. "Well, I did want to ask. Are you sure you don't want us contributing monetarily?"
Jaune took a long sip before answering. "LUCID is already paying us a ridiculous amount. I don't even know what to do with most of it. It just sits there."
Ren nodded slowly. "True. It's the same for me."
Jaune leaned against the counter, mug cradled in both hands. "Honestly, I am just glad everyone else went home."
Ren smiled knowingly. "The housewarming party was… energetic."
"That's one way to put it." Jaune shook his head. "I have never seen Pyrrha surrender in a competition before. Ever."
Ren flipped a waffle, thoughtful. "She tried very hard."
"She really did," Jaune agreed. "Turns out being terrifying in combat does not translate to sculpting dragons."
Ren allowed himself a small laugh.
They fell into a comfortable quiet for a moment, broken only by the sizzle of the waffle iron and the soft clink of ceramic. Jaune stared into his coffee, thinking about money, about LUCID, about how strange it was that an organization could provide so much. Housing. Food. Training facilities. Support. It was almost excessive, though he understood the logic. Keeping fighters fed, rested, and mentally stable was far cheaper than losing them.
Especially when those same fighters were the last line of defense against the grimm.
Ren spoke again, as if following the same thought. "Nora and I haven't really needed to spend much. She buys plush bears sometimes, but those are inexpensive. And the base cafeteria covers most meals anyway."
"Ridiculously good meals," Jaune added.
"Yes," Ren agreed. "It kind of makes cooking like this is more of a hobby than a necessity. Takes the fun out of it."
"Yeah, I've noticed that I haven't been cooking as many home meals as I have since my dad left anyhow. Kind of makes it a little efficient, I guess."
Jaune then glanced toward the hallway. "Where is Nora?"
Ren looked at him like he had just asked if water was wet.
"In bed," Ren said flatly.
Jaune blinked. "Sleeping?"
Ren stared for another second, then sighed dramatically. "Jaune. You know awakened below Rank Three cannot fall asleep without entering the Dream Realm."
"A-ahem." Jaune coughed awkwardly. "Right."
"She is not sleeping," Ren continued dryly. "She is pretending to sleep."
Jaune smiled. "Meditating?"
Ren snorted. "Unlikely. She will come down when I say the waffles are ready."
Jaune lifted his mug in quiet acknowledgment. "Fair enough."
The coffee settled warmly in his chest, grounding him. When Ren finally lifted the last waffle off the iron, he raised his voice just slightly.
"Nora. Waffles are ready."
There was a crash upstairs.
"Told you."
Jaune grinned.
After Nora came down, they ate together at the small kitchen table where their plates were crowded with waffles and syrup bottles.
Food was passed back and forth, the quiet beginnings of a shared routine settling in around them. Morning light slipped through the windows in pale stripes, catching on the steam rising from coffee mugs and the faint sheen of butter melting into golden grids.
Nora demolished her food with enthusiasm, barely stopping to breathe before she launched into conversation.
"And then," she said around a mouthful, pointing her fork vaguely at the ceiling, "the sky just opened up. Like, not cracked but opened, like it had a zipper. And out came this giant goose."
Ren took a sip of tea, unfazed. "A goose, huh?"
"Not just any goose," Nora corrected. "It was a heroic goose. It had a red cape. Very dramatic and heroic. Anyway, it honked and suddenly everyone could fly, except me of course, because I was wearing shoes made of pancakes."
Jaune paused mid bite and glanced at Ren.
Ren nodded slightly, as if to say this was entirely normal.
"So I'm running," Nora continued happily, "except I am not running, I am sort of bouncing, because pancakes are not good running shoes. And the goose was yelling at me. I didn't know what it was saying, but it sounded disappointed."
"What happened next?" Jaune asked, genuinely curious.
Nora beamed. "Then I woke up. Well, not woke up, woke up. Just… stopped dreaming, I guess."
She stabbed another piece of waffle and kept talking, unfazed by the weight of what she had just said. "I used to have dreams like that all the time. Weird ones, fun ones and even sometimes scary, but mostly funny ones. You know, once I dreamt that Ren turned into a tree."
Ren raised an eyebrow. "I... do not recall that?"
"You were a very grumpy tree," Nora said seriously. "No apples. Very rude."
Jaune smiled faintly and focused on his food, letting her voice wash over him. Nora talked with her hands, syrup occasionally dripping onto the table as she gestured wildly, describing dreams that bent logic into knots and wore nonsense like a crown. Dreams where gravity forgot its job. Dreams where colors tasted sweet. Dreams where nothing needed to make sense to be meaningful.
Jaune listened quietly.
He watched Ren too. The way his eyes softened into indulgence whenever Nora spoke. The way he corrected her plate when it slid too close to the edge. The way he listened, really listened, even when the words spiraled into chaos.
Nora kept going. "After fourteen, though, it just stopped. Like someone flipped a switch. No more dreaming. Just the Dream Realm, which is way less silly, I suppose."
Ren nodded. "It is… different."
Jaune swallowed and set his fork down for a moment.
Once awakened, the mind no longer wandered freely in sleep. No gentle stories spun by subconscious whim or half remembered nonsense that faded with morning light. Instead, there was the Dream Realm which was structured, violent and persistent.
Rest still came fortunately, the body recovered and the mind stabilized. But the experiences stayed.
Forever.
Nora continued, oblivious to the shift in Jaune's thoughts. "Sometimes I try to remember what it felt like. But it's a little fuzzy. Like trying to remember a smell from when you were little."
Jaune nodded slowly. "Yeah, I kind of get you. I think I miss it too. Dreaming and simply being able to fall into unconscious sleep."
Ren glanced at him, noticing the change. "You alright?"
Jaune smiled and waved it off. "Yeah. Just thinking."
Nora leaned forward, syrup on her chin. "About dreams?"
"Something like that."
She brightened. "You ever have any good ones?"
Jaune hesitated. He thought about it. About the dreams he barely remembered. About knights and stories and feelings more than images. "Yeah, I think so. I remember… warmth. I used to have dreams of heroes and Knights and stuff. It was pretty cool. Lots of colors. Not much else, that I remember."
Nora nodded sagely. "That means they were good dreams."
Ren smiled faintly at that.
They ate in comfortable silence for a moment after that, punctuated only by the clink of cutlery and Nora's occasional hum. Jaune felt something twist gently in his chest as he watched his friends.
To think that every awakened below Rank Three would never dream again after fourteen. It was strange. Sad, in a quiet way. Their minds still rested and their bodies recovered, but their nights were no longer blank canvases. They were battlegrounds and training grounds. Places where fear and memory lingered with sharp clarity.
Jaune wondered what that did to a person over time.
Nora broke the silence again. "I had a dream once where I was super small. Like ant size. And there was this giant library. The books were taller than buildings. I climbed one and jumped off and woke up right before I hit the ground."
She grinned. "I liked that one."
Ren nodded. "Yeah... you talked about that dream for weeks."
"It was a good dream," Nora insisted.
Nora finished her plate and leaned back in her chair, satisfied. "Anyway. That is all of them I remember. At least at this moment. If my memory jogs up a bit, I'll regale you tales of pancake knights!"
Jaune lifted his mug and took a slow sip, the warmth grounding him again. "Hah! That sounds nice. I'll take you up on that."
Ren nodded. "A fair trade, apparently."
Jaune chuckled quietly, though the sadness lingered just beneath it. He looked at them both, sitting there in the morning light, and thought about how much of themselves they had already given up just by awakening.
Dreams were small things.
But sometimes, small things mattered the most.
.
.
Later in the day, the base Jaune stepped out of the changing rooms, tugging slightly at the hem of his training outfit as he adjusted it into place. This special fabric was snug but comfortable, designed to handle strain and Rank 1 outputs without tearing. He rolled his shoulders once, exhaling slowly as he started down the hallway toward the simulation wing.
That was when Jaune saw Blake emerging from the women's changing room nearby.
She was dressed for training as well, tight fitting athletic gear that moved with her effortlessly, hugging her figure without restricting it. The material caught the overhead lights in subtle ways, dark fabric broken by lighter seams along her sides and arms.
They met each other's gaze at the same time.
"Hey," Jaune said, lifting a hand in a casual greeting.
Blake nodded. "Hey."
Without much thought, they fell into step together, walking side by side toward the simulation rooms. The corridor stretched ahead of them, long and mostly empty with only the occasional operative walking around. The sound of their footsteps echoed softly against the floor.
Blake glanced at him sideways. "So," she said, tone casual but curious, "how is cohabiting with Nora and Ren?"
Jaune considered the question for a second, lips twitching. "Honestly?"
"Yes."
"It is… Ren-tertaining," he said with a grin. "Very Nora-mally chaotic."
The air seemed to drop ten degrees.
Jaune made it half a step farther before realizing she was no longer beside him. He turned slowly and was immediately greeted by a stare that could have been classified as a lethal weapon.
Blake's eyes were flat and cold. Somewhat murderous.
Jaune swallowed. "I have been Yanging out with Yang too much lately," he said quickly, coughing into his fist. "She is infecting me."
"I will murder you," Blake replied evenly.
Jaune laughed weakly. "C'mon that was a good one!"
Then, because he apparently lacked self preservation, he squared his shoulders and flashed her a grin that was equal parts teasing and challenging. "But, if you're down for a spar, I'll be happy to oblige."
Blake's lips twitched despite herself. "Don't get cocky just because you have two meta runes. You might make it tempting for me to put you in your place."
Jaune could only shrug in response.
They resumed walking, the moment dissolving into something lighter as they rounded the corner toward the simulation rooms.
And immediately slowed to a stop.
Weiss stood outside the row of occupied simulation chambers, back half turned toward them. She held her phone to her ear, posture stiff and shoulders tense in a way that stood out even from a distance. The corridor was otherwise empty, except for the faint noise of active simulations leaking through the walls.
"No," Weiss said sharply. "That is not happening."
Jaune and Blake exchanged a look.
"…Because this is not negotiable," Weiss continued. "Father does not get to decide my life for me."
They both instinctively paused, listening.
Jaune did not know why they did it, but when Blake quietly gestured toward the nearby liquid dispensing vending machine, he followed without question. They slipped behind it, pressing close to its side as if it offered any real concealment. Jaune briefly wondered why they were sneaking at all, but the moment words like father, Atlas, and come back home filtered through the air, his curiosity firmly outweighed his better judgment.
"I told you already," Weiss said, voice showing cracks she would never allow in public. "I am not transferring back."
There was a pause, long enough that Jaune could almost imagine the voice on the other end.
"…No," Weiss said again, firmer this time. "Fine. I'll think about it."
The call ended.
The silence that followed felt heavier than before.
"I know you are there," Weiss said without turning around. "You can come out. Rank One senses, you know?"
Jaune winced. "Worth a try."
They stepped out from behind the vending machine. Jaune rubbed the back of his neck, wearing his guilt plainly. Blake, on the other hand, looked perfectly composed, arms loosely crossed, expression calm and unreadable.
"Sorry," Jaune said. "We didn't really mean to listen in."
Weiss turned to face them, her expression already smoothed back into composure, though her eyes betrayed lingering frustration. "Of course you didn't."
She sighed quietly, lowering her scroll. "It's just… trouble at home."
Jaune nodded slowly. He could feel the curiosity rising, but he didn't push. Weiss and him had gotten a lot closer over the past months but her family situation had always been a topic that she didn't like to speak of, casually.
Yet, Jaune felt that this time, she might crack. Perhaps just a little.
"Anything we can do to help?" Jaune asked.
"No. Probably—actually, maybe you can."
She hesitated, gaze flicking between Jaune and Blake, something thoughtful passing behind her eyes. She seemed to be weighing an idea, testing it internally.
Blake tilted her head slightly. "What?"
Weiss studied them for another second as if contemplating something, then asked with a measured breath. "How would the two of you... like to accompany me, to Atlas?"
.
.
AN: Advanced chapters are available on patreon