The soft chime of the bell above the door jingled as Jaune and Blake stepped into the small bookstore, the scent of paper and faint ink immediately washing over them. To Jaune, it was like nostalgia made tangible. The sign above the entrance had read Tuckson's Book Trade, and though the paint was a little faded, the interior was warm, cozy, and alive with quiet energy.
Bookshelves lined every wall, tall and crowded, the kind of chaotic order that only true book lovers could navigate. A faint tune hummed from a speaker on the counter, and the afternoon sunlight poured through the wide front window, illuminating floating motes of dust like lazy fireflies.
Blake was dressed casually in a cream sweater and black jeans which hugged her figure in a oh-so complimentary way. She immediately made for in the aisle between two shelves marked Fiction – Fantasy and Romance, book already in her hand and her golden eyes scanning the back cover with interest.
Jaune approached. "You know," he began, voice light, "you could've just sent me the title and saved us the walk."
Blake glanced up, a small curl of a knowing smile curving her lips. "I could have," she said evenly, closing the book. "But I thought you might appreciate some fresh air before Ruby's energy rears its head. Besides, after Pyrrha's training yesterday, you were practically crawling by the end."
Jaune groaned. "Don't remind me. I swear Pyrrha's secretly trying to kill me. I could barely feel my arms this morning."
"You'll live," Blake said, turning back to the shelves. "That's the point, after all."
He muttered under his breath, "Not sure I want to if it means doing that again."
The faintest smirk tugged at Blake's mouth. "Then you'll have to get stronger faster."
A couple of days had passed since Qrow had given him that strange, almost philosophical talk about his Aura properties. Since then, Jaune had been trying to apply the advice, doing his best to add control, introspection, and awareness into his training with Pyrrha and Blake. It wasn't easy, but Qrow's words had made him think differently about how Aura worked, and that mindset had stuck with him ever since.
And now, for reasons that still puzzled him, he was here, helping Blake pick out an "interesting read," as she had put it. To be fair, they were supposed to meet up with Ruby in a bit, so this was just a stop on the way.
The owner of the bookstore, Tuckson, was a mountain of a man, his muscled frame stretching the seams of his rolled-up flannel sleeves. His mutton-chop sideburns framed a face that looked both rugged and kind, like a retired fighter who'd decided to open a bookshop instead of a gym.
He greeted Blake warmly when she entered earlier, calling her "Miss Belladonna" with the kind of familiarity that told Jaune she was definitely a regular.
Now, as Jaune trailed after her between rows of books, he glanced at the spines absently. Atlas Rising.The Art of War.Midnight Over Vale. He wasn't much of a physical book reader anymore. He found that digital copies were easier and quicker. But Jaune could admit there was something different about holding a book. The texture, the smell and the soft thwip of turning pages.
It reminded him of weekends as a kid. His mom and dad would take him and his sisters to the local bookstore in Ansel. Everyone got to pick one book. His sisters always fought over the fairy tales or mystery novels, but he… he remembered standing in front of the fantasy section, staring at stories about knights and heroes and faraway kingdoms.
He hadn't thought about that in a long time.
The memory hit him unexpectedly—warm but bittersweet. He didn't even know if he'd ever see his family again. That thought tightened something in his chest.
Blake must've noticed him go quiet, because she turned her head slightly. "You alright?"
"Yeah," Jaune said quickly, forcing a smile. "Just thinking about something."
"Your family?" she asked softly.
His surprise flickered across his face before he chuckled faintly. "You're too good at reading people."
"Occupational hazard," she replied dryly, then looked back at the shelves. Then, almost casually, she asked, "You want to talk about it?"
Jaune glanced up from his own scan to her face, perhaps trying to gauge why she had asked him that.
"I'd like to, but... not now. There are things that... I can't easily speak about."
"Hmm... that gag order from Ozpin huh?" Blake replied.
"Yeah. Perhaps another time though."
"Perhaps, indeed."
They wandered like that for a while in the midst of comfortable silence, one that didn't need to be filled. Occasionally Blake would pull out a book and glance at the summary, Jaune offering unhelpful comments like "That cover looks dramatic" or "Ten-to-one that one's about vampires." She pretended not to react, but he saw the corners of her mouth twitch more than once.
Finally, he broke the quiet with a small grin. "So, just to ask... what made you want to drag me out here, anyway? You don't usually invite me for… uh, literature excursions. Especially before we're supposed to meet Ruby."
Blake paused mid-step, sliding a book back into the shelf. "You make it sound like I'm antisocial."
"Aren't you?"
She gave him a flat, unimpressed look.
"Alright, alright," he raised his hands defensively. "I'm just saying, besides our classes together in Beacon, we usually only hang out to train—or, you know, because Pyrrha makes us spar."
Blake folded her arms. "Maybe I thought you could use a change of scenery."
"Or maybe," he said teasingly, "I'm becoming endearing in your eyes."
Her reaction was to give him an elegant eye roll and a perfectly deadpan delivery. "Yes, Jaune. You're the epitome of manliness. My heart can barely handle your radiant aura. Truly, you make me swoon."
He smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. "You joke, but I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."
"That says more about you than it does about me," Blake murmured.
They turned another corner between shelves, and Jaune caught sight of the Romance section sign. He raised an eyebrow. "So, are we looking for something specific in here or or we just browsing?"
Blake's steps faltered slightly, barely noticeable, but Jaune caught it.
"What are you looking for, exactly?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
Her golden eyes darted away. "A… new edition. Of a book I like."
"Oh?" Jaune leaned slightly to peek over her shoulder. "What book?"
She hesitated just long enough for him to notice the faintest blush coloring her cheeks. "…Ninjas of Love."
Jaune blinked. "Ninjas of love? Hm..."
"Yes," she said, voice flat, as if daring him to laugh.
"I think I've heard of it," he said, struggling to recall. "Isn't that the one that's, uh, kind of a… romantic story between a knight and a ninja?"
"It's a very well-written romantic drama," Blake said sharply.
He squinted at her. "Right. But also kind of, you know…"
Her eyes narrowed. "If you say the word smut, I'm leaving."
He couldn't help it—he laughed. "I wasn't gonna say it! Promise!"
"Yes, you were."
"Okay, maybe," he admitted. "But come on, Blake, that book's kinda notorious. You realize how many memes exist about that series?"
"It has a good plot," she insisted, crossing her arms defensively. "And it explores emotional vulnerability in unexpected ways."
"Sure," Jaune said, nodding sagely. "And I read Blaze Academy: Battle Girls for the emotional nuance."
Her glare could've incinerated him. "You're unbelievable."
"Hey, I'm not judging! Well… not much."
Blake sighed, clearly exasperated, and turned back toward the shelf, scanning the rows again. "It's not here. The new edition was supposed to come out this week."
"Maybe it's sold out?" Jaune suggested. "Or maybe…" He glanced toward the counter, where Tuckson was busy stacking a pile of used books. "We could just ask the owner."
Blake hesitated, clearly debating whether to let him do it.
Jaune grinned. "Don't worry, I'll be subtle."
She frowned. "You're never subtle."
He ignored her and strode toward the counter. "Excuse me, Mr. Tuckson, right?"
The man looked up from his work. "That's me. What can I do for you, kid?"
"My friend here was wondering if you've got the new Ninjas of Love in stock yet?"
From behind him, Jaune heard the distinct sound of Blake's quiet groan and facepalm.
Tuckson's bushy brows shot up. "Ah, that one, huh?" He smirked, looking past Jaune toward Blake. "Miss Belladonna, back for more guilty pleasures?"
Jaune bit his tongue to keep from laughing out loud.
"Tuckson," Blake said, voice dangerously calm, "please don't make this weird."
The man chuckled, raising a placating hand. "Relax, I'm just teasing. Yeah, I've got a shipment coming in tomorrow. New edition, hardback cover. You want me to set one aside for you?"
"…Yes," Blake muttered, clearly mortified.
Tuckson scribbled a note in his ledger. "Done. I'll have it ready for pickup by noon."
"Thanks," she said quietly.
As they left the counter, Jaune couldn't resist whispering, "Guilty pleasures, huh?"
Blake stopped, turned to him, and said with icy precision, "If you bring this up to anyone, I will personally ensure your training with Pyrrha becomes a living nightmare."
Jaune grinned. "Noted."
They walked toward the door, the bell chiming again as they stepped outside into the cool evening air.
For a while, neither said anything. Then Jaune broke the silence with a quiet laugh. "You know, this was actually kinda fun. A change of pace that I didn't really know I needed."
Blake glanced at him sideways. "Even after you mocked my taste in books?"
"Especially after," he said. "You're surprisingly easy to fluster."
"I'm not flustered," she said quickly.
He just smiled. "Sure," Jaune glanced at his watch. "Looks like it's almost 3. We should head to that cafe if we don't want to be late in meeting Ruby."
Blake acquiesced and soon they were on their way.
The café was tucked neatly beside the convention center, its exterior adorned with soft paper lanterns shaped like sea shells and waves. A painted sign above the doorway read The Menagerie Bloom, and the scent of cinnamon, cardamom, and roasted coffee drifted through the open windows. The steady hum of conversation from the street mixed with the faint sounds of the expo crowd—excitement, chatter, laughter, the sound of comic enthusiasts lining up for autographs.
Jaune held the café door open as Blake stepped inside. The place was cozy—muted amber lights, dark wooden walls, and small round tables scattered about. The display counter glittered with a dozen types of colorful pastries, each one patterned in the Menagerian style: swirls of fruit glaze, powdered sugar like drifting sand, and tiny floral decorations painted on with meticulous care.
Ruby was already there, sitting at a corner booth by the window. She wore a red sweater over black jeans, with her signature red cloak over her shoulders. When she saw them enter, her entire face lit up.
"Jaune! Blake! Over here!" she waved both arms so energetically that the drink in her hand almost tipped over.
Jaune chuckled as they approached. "You're gonna spill your drink one of these days, Ruby."
"Then I'll just drink it faster!" she replied, completely unbothered.
Blake gave a small amused exhale as they sat down—Jaune on Ruby's left, Blake across from them. "You're in an awfully good mood today," Blake noted.
Ruby grinned. "Of course! Comic Con Vale only happens twice a year! I've been waiting for this one for months. There's a special showcase of Scythe Crusaders: Rebirth and a live drawing by the artist of Dustblade."
Jaune nodded. "You mentioned that last week. Something about the artist signing limited edition covers?"
Ruby gasped. "You remembered!"
"Kind of hard not to," he said, smiling faintly. "You brought it up during training, and lunch… and again during our morning classes."
Ruby stuck out her tongue. "I'm enthusiastic, not obsessive!"
Blake gave her a subtle side-eye. "Didn't Yang say one time, that you have a room full of framed covers?"
"They're art, Blake! Historical pieces of modern graphic storytelling!"
Blake tilted her head, lips twitching in quiet amusement. "Right. Art."
Jaune bit back a smile behind his drink.
Ruby huffed, puffing her cheeks slightly, but then smiled. "Anyway, I'm just glad you guys came. Especially you, Blake! I wasn't sure you'd actually say yes."
Blake sipped her tea, eyes calm but with a small, almost imperceptible smile. "It seemed… interesting. And I don't usually attend expos like this. Thought it might be a nice change of pace."
Ruby leaned forward eagerly. "Oh! There's a new booth this year selling limited Menagerie artist prints. Some of the linework is amazing—you might like it."
Blake raised an eyebrow. "You've been to Menagerie before?"
Ruby shook her head. "No, but I follow some of the illustrators online. Their style's really different from Vale's—more fluid, more personal. Less… industrial, I guess."
"Mm." Blake nodded thoughtfully. "That's true."
As Ruby continued to excitedly describe the panels, Jaune found himself smiling faintly into his cup. There was something amusing about seeing Blake here, listening patiently to Ruby's rapid-fire chatter. They were teammates in the dream realm, sure, but not exactly close. Ruby and Weiss had grown somewhat closer over the past two weeks, despite Weiss' reputation for being somewhat cold. Ruby had a way of softening people. Even now, Blake's slightly guarded nature seemed to relax around her, if only a little.
When the waiter came around, Jaune ordered a caramel latte, Ruby went for something called the Dust storm Delight—a swirling pink drink topped with whipped cream—and Blake ordered a simple black tea with honey. The pastries came soon after: delicate cream buns shaped like lotus flowers and flaky crescent cookies dusted with sugar.
"This place is really pretty," Ruby said between bites. "The decorations remind me of that Menagerie cafe that opened last year in Vale Square. Yang wanted to try it but the line was, like, a block long."
Blake hummed. "This one's smaller. More authentic, I think."
"Authentic?" Jaune echoed, looking up.
Blake stirred her tea gently. "I was born in Menagerie."
That was news to Jaune.
"Wait—really?" Ruby blinked. "I didn't know that!"
Jaune was equally surprised. "You never mentioned it. I always thought you were from Vale."
Blake gave a faint smile. "Most people assume that. I moved early last year when I just turned fifteen... due to certain reasons. I wanted a bit of a change. Menagerie was… peaceful in its own way, but complicated, too. There's a different rhythm to life there."
Ruby leaned forward, chin in her hands. "What's it like?"
Blake's eyes softened with a hint of nostalgia. "Hot. Loud. The air smells like salt and flowers after it rains. You can hear the sea almost everywhere you go. The architecture's… old, but beautiful. Stone walkways, colored glass windows, and night markets that stay open until sunrise." She smiled faintly. "When I was little, I used to sneak out to the cliffs to read by lantern light."
Jaune chuckled quietly. "That sounds a lot like you."
"Yeah," Ruby said warmly.
Blake shrugged lightly, taking a sip of tea. "It's been a while since I've been back."
Ruby tilted her head. "Would you ever visit again?"
"…Maybe," Blake said after a pause. "One day."
For a brief moment, the table fell quiet. The sound of the café around them filled the air—soft music, the hiss of steam, the clinking of dishes. Jaune caught the faint shadow in Blake's expression but didn't pry.
Ruby, being Ruby, quickly shifted the mood again. "Well, when you do go back, maybe you can bring me something! Like, an authentic Menagerie pastry or some cool local art."
Blake smirked slightly. "You just want food."
Ruby gasped. "I can appreciate culture!"
Jaune chuckled. "Sure you can, Ruby. One pastry at a time."
She stuck out her tongue at him before grinning again. "Speaking of culture—did you know the expo this year has a panel on the evolution of magical runes in fiction? There's even a talk about comparing combat styles of fantasy characters that use runes in combat!"
That caught Blake's attention. "Really?"
"Yup! Apparently, they have a retired LUCID technician as a guest. He helped design some of the simulators that people use nowadays."
Jaune raised a brow. "You sure it's okay to have that kind of talk so public?"
Ruby shrugged, her tone dropping just a little quieter. "It's all surface-level stuff. Civilians think it's just creative worldbuilding. They don't know how much of it's real."
Blake's golden eyes flicked subtly toward the other tables. The nearest couple was deep in conversation, clearly not listening. Still, her voice lowered. "Best to keep it that way. The fewer who know about LUCID, the better."
"Yeah," Jaune agreed softly. "After what happened with the incident a few weeks back… things are tense enough."
Ruby's smile dimmed slightly, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup. "Yang says Dad's been busy in Patch lately. Some new containment work. He's a Rank 2, but even semi-retirement doesn't mean much when there's an outbreak."
"Your dad's still stationed there?" Jaune asked.
Ruby nodded. "Yeah. After Yang and I awakened, he decided it'd be safer to move us to Vale. Said he didn't want us near the past." She smiled wistfully. "He still visits when he can. He tries to make it feel normal, you know? Like we're still a regular family."
Jaune understood that sentiment too well. "Normal's… hard to hold onto," he murmured.
Blake looked between them. "But you try anyway."
Ruby's grin returned, though smaller this time. "That's what makes us stubborn dreamers."
Jaune snorted. "That, or we're just gluttons for punishment."
Blake raised her cup. "Maybe both."
They clinked glasses lightly, a quiet gesture of shared understanding.
Outside, through the window, Jaune could see the distant crowd swelling at the expo entrance—people in colorful cosplay, laughter echoing down the street. The world felt so… ordinary from the outside. He found it comforting, in a way. Even if they carried secrets and power most people couldn't imagine, here they could just be students. Friends. People having coffee on a sunny afternoon.
Ruby stood abruptly, pumping a fist. "Alright! Expo time! Blake, you ready to enter the chaotic world of comics and collectibles?"
Blake stood more reservedly, finishing the last sip of her tea. "Ready as I'll ever be."
Jaune chuckled, grabbing his drink to go. "Lead the way, Rubes."
Ruby beamed as she threw open the door. The bell chimed brightly, and the three of them stepped out into the afternoon glow—toward the laughter, color, and noise of the convention ahead.