Kaiser was seated among strangers who were trying not to look nervous.
The main cast, the people Beacon seemed to orbit, weren't there yet.
Kaiser stared at the door for longer than he should have.
They overslept. Of course they did.
Professor Port prepared his materials with theatrical patience, moustache curled as if his face had been trained to smile for audiences.
The clock ticked closer to nine.
Then the door burst open.
A tumble of motion and breathless excuses. Ruby first, then Weiss, stiff and furious, then Yang with easy swagger, then Blake quiet and unreadable. JNPR spilled in behind them like a second wave.
"NOT LATE!" Ruby declared, planting herself with reckless confidence.
Port laughed warmly. "Ah! Youth! Such spirit. Quickly now, seats, seats. Our subject waits for no one."
They scrambled into place. Ruby looked victorious, as if arriving at the last second still counted as excellence.
Kaiser's mouth almost twitched.
This is who saves the world... Then again, raw potential came in many forms.
"This class," Professor Port began, "is crucial for understanding the legal and ethical framework that governs our esteemed profession. Huntsmen occupy a fascinating, albeit precarious, position in the world—somewhere between law enforcement and mercenaries."
He began to pace, gesturing as he spoke. "Our primary duty, of course, is the eradication of Grimm. But our roles extend far beyond the battlefield. Huntsmen and huntresses may be called upon to assist as emergency responders during Grimm incursions, as advisers to military or law enforcement bodies, or even as educators in the art of combat."
"There are also those," he continued, "Who work as private mercenaries, lending their skills to those in need, legally, of course. This flexibility gives huntsmen an extraordinary range of influence... and no shortage of challenges."
Kaiser leaned forward slightly, his interest piqued. He had always imagined huntsmen as practical superheroes. But as he listened, the profession suddenly felt far more nuanced and cool to him.
"And to fulfill these many roles effectively," Port went on, "it is imperative to hone your Aura and Semblance. Your Semblance, after all, is a reflection of your soul, a unique manifestation of who you are. While some of you may already be familiar with your Semblances, this class will also help you better understand and develop them."
Kaiser spun his pen, the words washing over him in a steady rhythm.
His attention didn't stay anchored.
What would mine even be? His mind drifted, unhelpfully vivid. Something clean and versatile like Schnee glyphs… or something darker. Something that changes the room when I step into it.
He caught himself imagining shadows that moved like hands, or blood turned into threads, dramatic, dangerous, the kind of power that made people stop talking when you walked by.
A sharp hiss cut through his thoughts.
"Ruby," Weiss snapped from across the aisle, voice low but lethal. "Stop dozing off. Pay attention. This is important."
Ruby slumped in her seat with a groan. "I don't see the point. Our whole team already unlocked our Semblances. Why sit through this if we already figured it out?"
Weiss's glare sharpened, a retort already loaded—
Kaiser spoke first, calm enough to make it harder to swat away.
"Ruby," he said, keeping his voice even. "There's more to being a Huntress than fighting. It's understanding the world around you, your allies, your enemies, and yourself." He paused, then softened it, because Ruby responded better to praise than pressure. "You're already good. But if you actually put in effort here, you could be… ridiculous."
Ruby blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity. Her shoulders lifted in a small, embarrassed shrug. "I… okay. Yeah. I'll try." She glanced at Weiss. "Sorry, Weiss."
Weiss held the glare a second longer—then let out a tight breath. "…It's fine. Just focus." Her eyes flicked to Kaiser, reluctant gratitude slipping through her pride. "And… thank you, Kaiser."
A faint satisfaction warmed Kaiser's chest.
One inch forward, he thought. That's still forward.
Professor Port noticed. His moustache twitched with approval as his gaze drifted toward Kaiser.
"Excellent work, Mr. Kaiser," Port boomed, clearly delighted with himself for witnessing "character development" in real time. "Headmaster Ozpin made the right choice in appointing you as manager. Your insight into your peers is already making a difference."
Kaiser inclined his head in acknowledgment, careful not to look too pleased.
Don't get comfortable, he reminded himself. Comfort is how you miss the next disaster.
Port clapped his hands together as if sealing the moment into history. "Now then, students! Today, we begin with a lesson that lies at the very heart of Huntsman combat. You've all heard the term before, Aura, but do you truly understand what it means?"
He let the silence stretch, theatrical to the bone, then turned and seized a piece of chalk.
"If a Semblance," Port said as he began to sketch, "is the individual reflection of your soul—unique, unpredictable, deeply personal, then Aura…" He tapped the center of the circle he'd drawn. "…is the soul itself, made manifest."
"Aura is the manifestation of your life force, your very being, projected outward. It surrounds you like armor, shields you from harm, reinforces your physicality… and it can even mend minor wounds over time."
Kaiser wrote quickly, ink scratching steady lines into the paper. The lecture hit differently after yesterday.
I felt it, he thought. Raw, shaky… like holding a live wire with bare hands.
Port added two arrows beside the circle and labeled them with a flourish.
"Your Reserve," he declared, "is your storage, how much Aura you can contain and survive on. The size of your soul, you could say. The deeper the well, the longer you can fight before your shield breaks."
He pointed to the second arrow. "And your Flow is output, how efficiently and forcefully you can use Aura. That is where you channel it into strength, reflexes, and Semblances. Some have vast reservoirs but little control. Others burn bright and fast, only to flame out."
Kaiser underlined the words as if he could tattoo them into his brain.
Reserve: capacity. Flow: control.
Tank and valve, he translated. How much you have. How well you can spend it.
"Most young Huntsmen," Port continued, pacing with relish, "focus too much on their Semblance, flashy moves, dramatic effects. But few learn how to measure their Aura. Too much output, and you drain yourself dry in minutes. Too little, and you're overwhelmed before you can respond."
Port turned from the board, eyes gleaming. "Aura is not infinite. The more you take, the more you burn, the faster it depletes. And when it breaks—"
He snapped his fingers.
"—you are exposed. A Huntsman must know not just how to fight, but when to fight, when to endure, and when to protect."
A murmur moved through the class. Some students shifted uneasily. Others leaned forward like they'd been waiting for someone to say this out loud.
Kaiser sat back, pen hovering.
So Aura wasn't just a shield.
It was a system. A limit. A discipline.
And worse, an honest mirror.
It's not just whether I can win, he realized. It's whether I can last. Whether I can stay controlled when it matters.
By the time the lecture ended, the day felt like it had already eaten through his attention span and was reaching for bone.
And there was still one class left.
Dust Studies.
Kaiser settled into his next seat, posture straight out of habit, curiosity sharpening despite his exhaustion. Dust had been a concept in the show, colorful and convenient, explained only as much as the budget allowed.
The Dust classroom glittered with neatly arranged canisters and crystals. Energy hummed faintly from the front displays, like bottled storms waiting for permission to release.
The instructor, Professor Peach, began the lecture, saying, "Today, let's explore the wonders of Dust! This remarkable substance is the foundation of our industry, our weaponry, and even our survival. Its applications are vast and varied, from powering great cities to delivering the devastating blows that keep the Grimm at bay."
As she spoke, she gestured to a set of Dust canisters and crystals displayed at the front of the room. Each one glimmered faintly in the light, the energy within them practically humming with potential.
Kaiser leaned forward, intrigued. Dust wasn't just a tool, it was alive, in a way.
She continued, "One must handle Dust with the utmost care. The elements within these remarkable materials are both powerful and volatile. A single mistake in their application can lead to—"
"Boom?" Ruby muttered, her head tilted slightly.
"Ruby," Weiss hissed, "pay attention! This isn't the time to joke around."
"I am paying attention," Ruby whispered, her eyes drifting to the Dust crystals. She seemed particularly interested in a set of fire Dust canisters. "But just look at them! Don't you ever wonder how they work? Like, what happens if you—"
"Don't even think about it," Weiss interrupted her voice, firm. "You don't just play with Dust! It's not a toy."
"But wouldn't it be cool to—"
"No," Weiss said sharply, her arms crossed. Blake sighed from her seat, clearly unwilling to get involved, while Yang leaned back casually with an amused grin.
"Oh, let her have a little fun," Yang teased. "What's the worst that could happen? I'm also here.
Kaiser immediately tensed up. The worst that could happen? A lot.
Before anyone could intervene, Ruby reached for a canister of fire Dust, holding it up and turning it over in her hands. "I just wanna see what happens if—"
KA-BOOM!
The explosion rattled the entire classroom, sending a shockwave of heat and light through the air. Desks were overturned, and a plume of smoke and Dust engulfed the room instantly.
Kaiser ducked under the desk, shielding his face as bits of debris rained down. The acrid smell of scorched Dust filled the air, making him cough.
The room descended into chaos. Students scrambled for cover, panicked voices everywhere. Kaiser could barely make out the professor's booming voice over the commotion. "Remain calm, students! Remain calm!"
As the dust began to settle, he peeked out cautiously. Ruby stood in the center of the chaos, covered from head to toe in dust. Weiss, also covered in dust, glared at her with a mix of disbelief and fury on her face.
"What," Weiss said through gritted teeth, "did I just tell you?"
"I-I didn't mean to!" Ruby stammered, waving her arms. "It just—uh—kind of... happened?"
Blake sighed heavily, brushing off her uniform, while Yang chuckled, clearly enjoying the spectacle.
"Well," Yang said with a grin, "that answers the 'what's the worst that could happen' question."
Before Weiss could retort, the door slammed open again, revealing an irritated Glynda Goodwitch. She surveyed the ruined classroom with a look that could have frozen an entire army of Beowolves in their tracks.
"It's only the first day," Glynda said, her tone sharp and cutting, "and you've already managed to blow up the Dust lab. Care to explain yourselves?"
Ruby looked like she wanted to sink into the floor. "It was an accident..."
Then Ozpin appeared at the door behind Glynda, calm as ever, like he'd strolled into a mild inconvenience.
"Ms. Goodwitch," he said smoothly, "perhaps we should allow the students a moment."
Glynda's stare did not soften.
Ozpin's eyes moved, briefly, to Kaiser.
"Actually," Ozpin continued, "Kaiser. As your cohort's manager, this is an excellent opportunity to practice responsibility. Assist, please."
Kaiser's spine straightened.
Before class even begins, they give me a fire.
He stepped forward carefully, gaze sweeping the room. No serious injuries. Mostly shock. Mostly embarrassment.
He kept his voice even. "Everyone breathe. First. Then we clean."
Ruby's shoulders rose and fell in a shaky inhale.
Weiss looked like she wanted to argue, but didn't, because he'd said "breathe," not "stop."
Kaiser turned slightly toward Ozpin. "We should assign a senior team as mentors," he said. "They've already gone through what you're dealing with, and they'll help you identify the blind spots you might not even realize you have."
Ozpin nodded approvingly. "An excellent suggestion."
After a brief pause, he adjusted his glasses, eyes thoughtful behind the lenses. "I believe Team CFVY would be well-suited for the task. Coco and her team have ample experience, and their particular skill sets should prove invaluable in guiding you through these challenges."
Kaiser blinked, surprised despite himself. "Coco?" he echoed.
Ozpin's faint smile deepened. "Yes. You likely haven't met her yet, but Coco is especially adept at strategy and social awareness. I'll arrange for her to reach out to you soon."
Kaiser inclined his head, processing.
"And second," he added, shifting his attention to Team RWBY, "we need to start small. Build trust. That means setting aside your differences and focusing on what connects you as a team. You don't have to be perfect immediately, but you do have to start trying."
Weiss coughed awkwardly. "You can… send the bill to the Schnee Dust Company."
"I'm not concerned about the cost," Ozpin replied calmly. "What matters is the health and cohesion of your team."
Weiss rolled her eyes but didn't argue further.
Ruby's shoulders loosened slightly, though doubt lingered in her expression. "I… I guess we can try. But what if we mess up again?"
"Then you mess up," Kaiser said evenly. "And then you learn. And then you try again. You don't improve by pretending everything's fine. You improve by figuring out what isn't working and fixing it, one step at a time."
Ruby nodded slowly, uncertainty easing just a fraction.
"Good." Kaiser glanced toward Ozpin. "Anything to add, Headmaster?"
Ozpin smiled faintly. "Not at all. I believe you've said everything that needed to be said."
Then his tone shifted, gentler but unmistakably firm.
"Ruby, Weiss, Blake, Yang, I expect each of you to reflect on your actions today. This was a minor incident. Similar behavior in the future may result in far greater consequences. I will not be able to excuse it next time. Do I make myself clear?"
The team nodded solemnly.
They began to file out to clean up, but Ruby lingered, head lowered.
"Headmaster Ozpin…" she began hesitantly. "Was it a mistake to make me team leader?"
Ozpin regarded her with quiet patience.
"Ruby," he said softly, "I have made more mistakes than any man, woman, or child on this planet. But appointing you as a leader is not one of them."
Ruby looked up slightly.
"Leadership isn't about never making mistakes," he continued. "It's about learning from them, just as Kaiser said. You've had one day. Give yourself time."
Ruby swallowed and nodded. "I… thank you."
She turned and left, steps slower than usual.
When the door shut behind her, Glynda crossed her arms.
"Are you certain about this, Ozpin? She is younger than the others."
Ozpin's smile was faint, but steady. "These things take time. Let's see how she grows."
Later that evening, Kaiser sat alone in the common area, replaying the day in his mind. The explosion. The tension. The thin line between encouragement and overreach.
His Scroll buzzed.
He glanced at the unfamiliar number before answering. "Kaiser speaking."
"Hi, Kaiser! Coco Adel from Team CFVY."
Her voice carried easy confidence, measured, composed.
"Ozpin asked me to reach out. He said you might benefit from a little mentoring. Nothing formal. Think of me as your on-call strategist."
Kaiser leaned back slightly.
On-call strategist, he repeated internally, amused.
The conversation was brief but efficient. Coco asked pointed questions, offered sharper advice, and left him with a practical lesson: observe first, intervene second. Influence quietly.
When the call ended, Kaiser felt marginally steadier.
Maybe this won't spiral immediately, he thought.
Exhaustion finally began to settle in.
He returned to his dorm room, the day's weight pressing at his temples. The dust explosion had been the perfect summary of Beacon's first day: volatile, unpredictable, survivable.
He reached for the handle and stopped.
Weiss stood in front of his door, arms crossed, posture rigid.
Waiting.
"Kaiser," she said without greeting, "since you're the manager, I'd like you to put in a word with Headmaster Ozpin."
Her tone was controlled.
Too controlled.
"A word about?" Kaiser asked evenly.
"A transfer." Her chin lifted. "To a different team."
The word landed heavier than she intended.
"Why?"
She let out a sharp breath. "Because I refuse to waste my time compensating for incompetence."
There it was. Not anger. Disgust.
"At least," she continued, voice tightening, "if a transfer isn't possible, then Ruby's leadership should be reconsidered."
"She made a mistake," Kaiser said.
"She detonated a classroom."
"She's trying."
Weiss stepped closer. "That's not good enough."
Her composure didn't crack, but it strained.
"She's impulsive. Blake doesn't speak unless cornered. Yang treats everything like a joke. This isn't a team, Kaiser. It's damage control."
"You think you could control it better?"
"I know I could."
Immediate. No hesitation.
"You'd prevent every mistake?" Kaiser asked quietly.
"Yes."
"Every one?"
"Yes."
Her voice didn't waver.
Her hands did.
Just slightly.
Kaiser held her gaze. "Why does it matter so much?"
A flicker of confusion, like that hadn't been the right question.
"It matters," she said sharply, "because failure reflects on leadership."
"And leadership reflects on you."
Her jaw tightened.
"You're assuming a lot."
"Am I?"
Silence.
The hallway felt narrower.
"You don't want a different team," Kaiser said carefully. "You want certainty."
Her eyes flashed. "I want competence."
"You want control."
Her breath hitched. Barely.
"That explosion," Weiss said quickly, deflecting, "would not have happened if anyone had listened to me."
"That's not what this is about."
"Then what is it about?"
Her voice rose, strained, not loud.
"It's about being surrounded by people who treat this like a game while I'm expected to be flawless."
There it was.
Not shouted.
Just raw.
She turned her face slightly away.
"I don't have the luxury of mistakes," she said, quieter. "They can afford to learn. I can't."
Kaiser's chest tightened.
I know that sentence. I've lived inside it.
"That's what you think," he replied.
"That's what I know."
Weiss's gaze snapped back, sharp, defensive.
"You think I don't see it?" she said. "Every time something goes wrong, I'm the one calculating consequences. Measuring fallout. Because if I fail, it won't just be me failing."
She swallowed.
"Do you understand that?"
"Yes," Kaiser said.
That made her pause.
"Yes," he repeated. "I do."
For a split second, surprise softened her expression.
Then suspicion rebuilt the walls.
"Don't patronize me."
"I'm not."
"You're asking me to lower my standards."
"I'm asking you to stop pretending perfection is the same thing as leadership."
That hit.
Weiss went still.
"If you were leader," Kaiser continued, voice steady, "and Ruby blew up the room under your command, would that be your failure?"
"Yes."
"Even if it was her choice?"
"Yes."
"Even if it was an accident?"
"Yes."
No hesitation.
That was the problem.
"That's not leadership," Kaiser said softly. "That's self-punishment."
Her eyes hardened. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Maybe not," Kaiser said.
He held her gaze anyway.
"But I know what it's like to believe you're only valuable when you're perfect."
Silence.
Longer this time.
Weiss wasn't looking at him anymore.
"That's what's expected of a Schnee," she said finally, voice quiet but firm. "Precision. Composure. No visible cracks."
"And what happens if you crack?" Kaiser asked.
Her jaw flexed.
"I don't."
The answer cost her.
Before either of them could speak again—
"What do we have here?"
Coco Adel's voice cut through the tension like a blade.
She stood at the end of the hall in her signature combat-chic, sunglasses catching the light. Her smile was all confidence and trouble.
Coco's gaze flicked from Kaiser to Weiss, and her expression sharpened with immediate understanding.
"Oh." She stepped closer. "This is one of those."
Weiss stiffened. "Excuse me?"
Coco ignored the question and looked at Kaiser instead. "Ozpin told me you'd be trouble."
Kaiser blinked once. "He didn't—"
Coco's grin widened. "He implied."
Weiss's arms tightened across her chest. "If you're here to mock me—"
"I'm here because you're about to sabotage your own team and call it 'standards,'" Coco said pleasantly. "Which is adorable."
Weiss's eyes flashed. "I beg your pardon—"
Coco's hand moved.
Not a weapon, just fast, confident, and humiliatingly casual.
She hooked Weiss by the collar and hauled her forward half a step like she was repositioning a stubborn mannequin.
Weiss made an indignant sound that didn't match her dignity at all. "Let go of me!"
Coco didn't. "Come on, Princess. We're going to have a little talk about teamwork. Whether you like it or not."
Weiss looked like she might combust.
Coco glanced back at Kaiser over her shoulder. "Get some sleep, Manager. You're going to need it."
Then she tugged Weiss down the hall.
Weiss twisted just enough to glare back at Kaiser, fury struggling with something more confused.
"This is not how you handle things," she snapped, less bite than before.
And underneath it, almost too quiet to be real:
"…We're alike?"
The hall went silent again.
Kaiser exhaled and unlocked his door.
Inside, the room felt smaller than it had this morning.
He sat on the edge of his bed, shoulders tight, mind too awake.
What am I doing?
Beacon's gears ticked somewhere beyond the walls, patient and relentless.
Kaiser stared at his Scroll until his eyes burned.
If I can't hold this together… then Ozpin's right. I'm not invulnerable.
He lay down anyway.
And tried to sleep.