NF38/39/43 Jaune Arc Scaling

It felt so soon… surely, he had more time left? Just a few more weeks, a few more days… a few more hours. His mouth was dry and no amount of swallowing changed that. This life… the life he'd come to love more than any other.

—NF38

Jaune's sudden desire to train must have taken his team by surprise. That or it put them into shock entirely. That was the only explanation for why even now, a week later, Weiss had still looked like she wasn't sure if she believed him when he said he was going out to run laps around Beacon. She'd known better than to challenge him, however. Yang did that the first time, totally assuming he was off for some booty call, then had been stuck doing laps with him.

She'd never forgiven him for that, even if it was her fault in the first place.

For Jaune, the long runs were a chance to unwind and de-stress. It wasn't something he'd realised he really needed, but being left out of breath and with aching muscles was a catharsis, and there couldn't be catharsis without a problem to escape from. It was probably the fear of what he knew would come, what he was still fairly sure would happen even though he'd made the decision to try and fight it.

His hands tightened into fists, and he found a burst of last-minute energy that let him run harder and faster. He was going to fight this. The future looked bad, but when did it not? He'd faced the threat of death over a thousand times. This would be no different. Unlike all those other times, however, it felt so much more personal. He'd always had reason to fight, people to fight for, loved ones to save…

But this felt heavier. This life felt better, he felt more alive – in a way he hadn't known he was lacking. Maybe it was his family, maybe it was his friends, or maybe it was the fact he'd allowed himself time to relax, to put aside his hellish training and actually live for a little bit.

Even if that time didn't help him now, he couldn't find it in himself to regret it. Slowing down and taking time off had given him a new appreciation for life. It reminded him what life was, that it was more than just endless training in pursuit of a single, unifying goal.

Exhaustion caught him near the statue, but he kept jogging until the grass, collapsing down on that and laying on his back. It was cool and soft, in contrast to the sun that beat down on him. He closed his eyes against it, then covered them with his arm when that wasn't enough. By all rights it was a lovely day, except that he was exhausted and covered in sweat, which never felt good in hot weather. Where was sleet and snow when you needed it?

An hour and a half, Jaune thought, checking his scroll and ending the stopwatch. That's a lot better than it was last week. Not much, but it might make the difference.

—NF39

[...]

Weiss sighed. "He's filled with inconsistencies," she said. "He told us he wasn't trained to fight, but he's honestly better than most of the other students. All he lacks is conditioning. He told us he didn't want to become a huntsman, but he's here in Beacon. He told us he doesn't know anything about the White Fang, but he clearly despises them."

—NF43