[Katsuya Akiya (MC) POV]
I woke up to sunlight streaming through the curtains, my permanently closed eyes not stopping me from noticing the brightness. For a moment, I forgot where I was—then the memories came flooding back.
I sat up and looked around the room. My bags were packed from last night, sitting by the door ready to go. The weapon case leaned against the wall next to them.
I got out of bed and went through my morning routine on autopilot. Shower, brush teeth, get dressed in simple clothes. The house was quiet—Dad probably wasn't awake yet.
Downstairs, I made myself a quick breakfast. Toast, eggs, some fruit. Simple but filling. I ate mechanically, my mind already racing ahead to what today would bring.
Beacon Academy. A school for training Huntsmen and Huntresses to fight monsters. And I was supposed to just... go there. Pretend I knew what I was doing. Hope the fuzzy memories would fill in enough gaps that I didn't look completely clueless.
This was going to be a disaster.
I was finishing the last of my breakfast when I heard footsteps on the stairs. Dad came down, still in his pajamas, his hair messy from sleep. He looked tired, like he hadn't slept well.
"Morning," I said.
"Morning." He walked over to the coffee maker and started brewing a pot. "You all packed?"
"Yeah. Everything's ready to go."
He nodded, not looking at me. There was an awkward silence for a moment, the kind that happens when someone wants to say something but doesn't know how.
Finally, he turned to face me.
"Wait here. I have something for you."
He left the kitchen and I heard him go back upstairs. A few minutes later, he returned carrying a large box, carefully wrapped in plain brown paper.
"This is from your mother," he said quietly, setting the box on the table in front of me. "She wanted you to have it when you became a Huntsman. She made me promise to give it to you when the time came."
I stared at the box, feeling that weird disconnect again—the emotions of this body's original owner mixing with my own confusion.
"Thank you," I said, my voice coming out softer than I expected.
I carefully unwrapped the paper, revealing a sturdy wooden box underneath. I opened it.
Inside was a suit. Not just any suit—a black suit that looked almost exactly like Hazama's signature outfit from BlazBlue. Black pants, black vest, white dress shirt, and a black jacket. But as I touched the fabric, I realized it wasn't normal clothing.
The material had a rough texture underneath the smooth exterior, something that felt more like armor than cloth. It looked like regular formal wear, but clearly had some kind of protective quality woven into it.
"Combat clothing," Dad explained. "Your mother had it specially made. It looks normal but it's reinforced. Won't stop everything, but it'll help."
I pulled the suit out carefully, setting it aside. Underneath was something that made my perpetual smile feel even more wrong.
Weapons.
Two butterfly knives, sleek and deadly-looking. They resembled Hazama's fighting style perfectly—the kind of weapons that could be concealed easily but were lethal in the right hands. The blades gleamed in the morning light.
And next to them, coiled neatly, were chains. Not ordinary chains—these were clearly weapons. They had a strange, almost organic quality to them, with metal segments that looked like they could extend and retract. At the end of each chain was what looked like a snake's head, stylized and menacing, with mechanisms that suggested they could bite and grip onto targets.
"She knew you'd develop a fighting style that suited your semblance," Dad continued. "Those are custom-made. The knives and chains can both channel Dust if you need them to. The chains are specially designed—they can extend far beyond what normal chains should be able to, and those snake heads can lock onto targets."
I picked up one of the knives, feeling the weight of it. Then I carefully lifted one of the chains. It was heavier than I expected, but as I held it, something in my body seemed to recognize it. Like muscle memory waiting to be activated.
There was one more item in the box. A bracer—a thick, mechanical-looking band designed to fit around the forearm. It had small lights on it that weren't currently lit, and what looked like adjustment dials on the side.
"That's the most important part," Dad said, his voice becoming more serious. "It's a semblance regulator. After the last incident, we had it specially made to help you keep control."
I looked up at him sharply. "Incident?"
He winced. "You... don't remember?"
"Refresh my memory."
He sat down heavily in the chair across from me. "The doctors said your semblance is powerful but unstable. That bracer helps regulate it, keeps it from overwhelming you."
I stared at the bracer, a cold feeling settling in my stomach.
A semblance that caused rampages. Loss of control. The body I was in looked like Hazama, who was made to be the vessel of Yuuki Terumi—a malevolent entity that possessed people and drove them to destruction.
Was I dealing with that too? Was Terumi somehow part of this body?
"The bracer works," Dad continued, not noticing my internal panic. "You've been stable for two years now. Just don't take it off, okay? Keep it on at all times."
I picked up the bracer, examining it more closely. It was heavier than it looked, solid and well-made.
"Okay," I said quietly. "I'll keep it on."
"Good." He stood up. "Now get changed. You should head out soon if you want to make it to Beacon on time."
I gathered everything and headed back upstairs to my room. I laid out the suit on my bed, looking at it for a long moment. The chains and knives sat next to it, waiting.
Then I started getting dressed.
The shirt fit perfectly. The vest and pants were comfortable despite the reinforced material. The jacket settled on my shoulders like it was made for me—which, I guess, it was. I strapped the bracer onto my left forearm, adjusting it until it fit snugly. The small lights flickered on, glowing a soft blue.
The butterfly knives went into hidden pockets in the jacket, designed specifically to hold them. They disappeared completely once sheathed, invisible unless you knew where to look.
The chains were more complex. There were mechanisms built into the jacket's sleeves and back that the chains attached to, allowing them to be deployed and retracted smoothly. I tested the mechanism once—the chain shot out with surprising speed, the snake head snapping forward before retracting smoothly back into place.
I looked at myself in the mirror.
And then something changed.
I felt control return—real control. My eyes, which had been perpetually closed since I woke up in this body, slowly opened. They were a sharp yellow almost slitted making my gaze like a snake.
The permanent smile faded. My face relaxed into a neutral expression, then I tried smiling deliberately. It worked. I could frown. I could make whatever expression I wanted.
Full facial control. Finally.
Maybe it was the bracer. Maybe it was just my body finally adjusting to having me in it. I didn't know and didn't care.
It felt like a massive weight lifting off my shoulders.
I grabbed my bags and headed back downstairs.
Dad was waiting in the living room. When he saw me, his eyes widened slightly.
"You look just like her," he said softly. "Your mother. When she was your age."
I set down my bags and walked over to him, pulling him into a tight hug.
"Thank you," I said. "For... everything."
He hugged me back hard. "Come back safe, you hear me? Visit when you can."
"I will. I promise."
We stood there for a moment, neither of us wanting to let go. Finally, I stepped back.
"I should get going."
"Yeah. You should."
I picked up my bags, slinging them over my shoulder.
I walked to the door, opened it, and stepped outside into the morning sunlight.
I didn't look back. If I did, I might not leave.
The walk to the airship docks wasn't particularly long, but it gave me time to adjust to the changes. Being able to actually open my eyes and control my facial expressions felt surreal after spending a day trapped behind a permanent smile and closed lids.
The streets were busy with people heading to work or school. A few gave me curious looks—probably because of the formal attire—but most just went about their business.
I reached the docks and spotted the Bullheads lined up, their engines humming as they prepared for departure. Several were marked for Beacon Academy, and small groups of students were already gathering near them.
I headed toward the nearest one, adjusting my bags on my shoulder. The chains felt comfortable against my back, the mechanisms holding them in place secure and unobtrusive. The knives were invisible in their hidden pockets.
As I approached the boarding area, I noticed the crowd was mostly teenagers around my age—prospective students, all heading to Beacon for the first time.
I climbed aboard the Bullhead, finding a spot near the window where I could set down my bags.
——
[Ruby Rose POV]
"Come on, Ruby! It'll be fun!" Yang insisted, her lilac eyes sparkling with mischief.
"I don't think this is a good idea," I muttered, trying to hide behind my red cloak. We'd already boarded the Bullhead to Beacon, and Yang had been trying to get me to "socialize" for the past ten minutes.
"Live a little! You're going to Beacon! You need to learn how to talk to people!" Yang threw an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. "Tell you what—I dare you to ask out the next cute guy who walks through that door."
"WHAT?!" My voice came out as a squeak. "Yang, no! I can't just—"
"A dare's a dare, little sis." Yang grinned wickedly. "And if you don't do it, you're banned from cookies for a month."
"You wouldn't."
"Try me."
I stared at her, seeing the absolute seriousness in her expression despite the grin. Yang would absolutely follow through on that threat. She'd done it before.
"Fine," I grumbled, crossing my arms. "But the next guy who walks in! You said it!"
"Deal!"
I looked toward the entrance of the Bullhead, hoping maybe no one else would board. But of course, my luck wasn't that good.
"There!" Yang pointed. "That guy!"
I followed her finger and felt my heart drop into my stomach.
Walking into the Bullhead was possibly the most striking person I'd ever seen...in 3D.
Green hair swept back from his face, sharp yellow eyes that seemed to take in everything around him, and he was dressed in a formal black suit that made him look way too mature and sophisticated for someone our age.
He looked like he belonged in a spy movie or something.
"Yang, no," I whispered urgently. "He's way too—I mean, look at him! He's completely out of my league!"
"A dare's a dare!" Yang singsonged. "Plus, cookies. Remember the cookies, Ruby."
I thought about my beloved cookies. About never being allowed to have them again for a whole month. About Yang's smug face every time I reached for one and she reminded me of my failure.
"...Fine," I muttered, feeling my face heat up. "But this is your fault when I embarrass myself."
"That's the spirit!" Yang gave me a push toward the green-haired guy, who had just found a spot near the window and was setting down his bags.
I stumbled forward, my legs feeling like jelly. As I got closer, I could see him more clearly—the sharp features, the confident way he carried himself, the weapons I could barely make out hidden in his suit.
He definitely didn't look like someone who'd be interested in a fifteen-year-old girl who was two years too young for Beacon.
But a dare was a dare. And cookies were at stake.
I took a deep breath and walked up to him, trying to channel some of Yang's confidence.
"Um, hi!" I said, probably too loudly.
He turned toward me, those yellow eyes focusing on me with an intensity that made me want to run and hide. But then his expression softened slightly, becoming more curious than intimidating.
"Hello," he said, his voice smooth and polite. "Can I help you?"
"I, uh—" I glanced back at Yang, who was making exaggerated "go on!" gestures. "I was wondering if, um, maybe you'd like to be my... my..."
Say boyfriend, Ruby. Just say boyfriend and get it over with.
"...friend?"
NO. That's not what I was supposed to say!
But the words were already out, and I watched as the guy's expression shifted. A genuine smile spread across his face—not mocking or condescending, but actually kind and warm. It completely transformed his appearance from intimidating to approachable.
"I'd be happy to be your friend," he said, extending his hand.
I was so shocked that I bowed at a ninety-degree angle while shaking his hand, the motion completely automatic and probably way too formal.
"Thank you!" I squeaked out.
"I'm Katsuya Akiya, by the way," he said as I straightened up. "Nice to meet you."
"Ruby! Ruby Rose!" I managed to say.
He nodded with that warm smile still on his face, then turned back to arranging his bags, clearly giving me an out from the awkward conversation.
I quickly retreated back to Yang, my face burning.
A hand clapped down on my shoulder and I nearly jumped out of my skin.
"What the fuck was that?" Yang's voice was right in my ear, a mix of disbelief and amusement.
"I asked him to be my friend!" I said defensively.
Yang stared at me. "Friend."
"Yes?"
"Not boyfriend?"
"...No?"
Yang's expression went through several stages—confusion, realization, and then exasperation.
"Ruby," she said very seriously, gripping my shoulders. "You were supposed to say BOYFRIEND. Right?!"
"You just said to ask him out! You didn't specify what for!" I protested.
Yang let out a long groan, dragging her hands down her face. "Ruby. Ruuuby. If you had said boyfriend, you probably could have gotten a partner before me! Did you see that guy? He was hot AND he seemed nice!"
"He was way out of my league anyway," I muttered, feeling my face burning even more.
Yang was quiet for a moment, then shook her head. "Well, at least you made a friend. That's... something, I guess."
She looked around the Bullhead, her eyes scanning the other passengers with a new intensity.
"What are you doing?" I asked nervously.
"Looking," Yang said simply. "If my little sister can walk up and make friends that easily, then I can definitely get a boyfriend before we even land at Beacon."
"Yang, no—"
"Yang, yes!" She pointed at a blond guy across the Bullhead who was looking out the window. "Him. He looks cute. I'm doing this."
"This is a terrible idea!" I hissed, but Yang was already walking away, her hair bouncing with each confident step.
I slumped back against the wall of the Bullhead, pulling my hood up over my face.
——
[Yang Xiao Long POV]
I spotted the blond guy near the window—tall, wearing armor, kind of brutish-looking but in that "rough around the edges" way that could be appealing.
Perfect.
I walked over with my best confident stride, flipping my hair over my shoulder. "Hey there." I said with a smile.
The guy—Cardin, if I remembered the name tag on his bag correctly—looked startled for a moment, then a smirk spread across his face. "Well, well. Look who decided to come talk to me. Couldn't resist, huh?"
I blinked. That wasn't the flustered response I'd expected.
"Girls these days," he continued with a sneer. "Think they can just walk up and flirt with anyone. Where's your modesty?"
What the hell?
I suddenly became aware of three other guys closing in around me. They appeared seemingly out of nowhere, forming a loose circle. All of them had this weird smirk on their faces that made my skin crawl.
"Cardin's right," one of them said, a skinny guy with greasy hair. "Girls need to learn their place."
"Should be more ladylike," another one added, this one stocky with a nasty grin.
Then I noticed the third guy—he was holding something. A small vial of some kind of dark liquid.
And he was moving it toward my hair.
My hair. MY HAIR.
Panic shot through me. I moved to dodge, but the space was too tight with all of them crowding around me—
A black coat suddenly appeared between the liquid and my hair, the substance splashing harmlessly against the fabric.
"What exactly are you planning here?"
The green-haired guy appeared next to us, his yellow eyes sharp and cold as he looked at the guys surrounding me. His voice was calm, almost pleasant, but there was an edge to it that made the temperature feel like it had dropped.
That's when I noticed it. Another guy, standing a few feet away, holding up his scroll. Recording.
They were planning to ruin my hair and record my reaction. Probably post it online or something.
Oh, these assholes were SO dead.
"Back off, pretty boy," the greasy-haired one sneered. "This doesn't concern you. Just trying to teach this girl some manners—"
"Girls shouldn't be throwing themselves at men like that," the stocky one added. "It's unladylike."
"Yeah, someone needs to put her in her place," the one with the vial said.
The moss heads expression didn't change, but something about his posture shifted. He looked... repulsed. Like these guys were insects he'd found in his food.
"I see," he said quietly.
Then he moved.
One moment he was standing next to me. The next, he was in front of the guy with the vial, his leg coming up in a high kick that caught the guy under the chin and sent him sprawling backward.
Before the other two could react, Katsuya dropped low, sweeping both their legs out from under them in one smooth motion. As they fell, he grabbed both their heads and slammed them down against the floor of the Bullhead with a metallic THUNK.
The whole thing took maybe three seconds.
The guy with the scroll dropped it, his hands going up. "Whoa, whoa, man! We were just messing around!"
"Delete it," he said, his voice still calm. "Now."
The guy scrambled to pick up his scroll, fingers shaking as he quickly deleted the video. "Done! It's done! We're sorry, okay?!"
Cardin had backed away during the fight, looking pale but still with that sneer on his face. He and the recording guy quickly moved to the other side of the Bullhead, clearly wanting no part of an actual fight.
He then turned to the three guys on the floor, who were groaning and trying to get up. "If I see you trying something like this again, I won't be gentle. Understood?"
They nodded frantically and scrambled away as fast as they could.
He bent down and picked up his coat, shaking off the liquid that had splashed on it. He examined it for a moment—seemed like it hadn't stained—then turned to me.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his expression softening back to that warm, polite look he'd had when talking to Ruby.
I blinked, still processing what had just happened. "I... yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."
He'd just taken down three guys in three seconds.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Yang. Yang Xiao Long." I paused. "You already met my sister, Ruby."
"Ah, the energetic girl in the red cloak. I can see the family resemblance." He smiled again. "I'm Katsuya Akiya. I hope I get to see what you can do at Beacon, Yang. You seem like you'd be quite capable in a fight."
And with that, he gave a slight nod and walked back to his spot near the window, draping his coat over his bags.
I stood there for a moment, my eyes drifting across the Bullhead to where Cardin had retreated. He was talking with his friends, occasionally glancing back at me with that same sneer.
Something inside me felt... wrong. Off.
He'd tried to humiliate me. Tried to ruin my hair. My beautiful hair that I took care of every single day.
And he was just going to walk away from that? Just going to keep that smug look on his face?
I turned and walked back to Ruby, who was staring at me with wide eyes.
"Yang? You okay?" she asked quietly.
"Fine," I said, but my voice sounded distant even to my own ears.
I glanced back at Cardin one more time.
I'd remember this. I'd remember him.
——
[Katsuya Akiya (MC) POV]
I sat back down, trying to process what had just happened.
Those guys. The way they talked. The way they acted. Cardin's sneering face.
I'd completely forgotten about the society swap in RWBY. In this world, it was apparently acceptable—or at least common—for men to act like that toward women. To "put them in their place" or whatever bullshit they'd been spouting.
And that guy Yang had approached—Cardin. In the original timeline, he would have been a bully targeting that one bunny faunus Velvet and Jaune. Here, he'd just revealed himself to be the same kind of asshole, just with different targets.
The whole dynamic was flipped and it was messing with my head.
Also, I'd just watched Yang—YANG, of all people—nearly get her hair ruined by a bunch of assholes. If that liquid had actually hit her hair, she would have gone nuclear. The entire Bullhead might have been in danger.
I closed my eyes, trying to center myself. This world was confusing. The rules were different. I needed to be more careful.
But more importantly, I needed to figure out what I could actually do.
I focused inward, trying to sense my semblance the way the memories suggested I should. The bracer on my arm pulsed slightly, its blue lights steady.
And then I felt it.
Power. Raw, chaotic power that seemed to writhe inside me like something alive. It wanted out. Wanted to be used. Wanted to break free and cause havoc.
Terumi. This was Terumi's power. The Susanoo Unit's power, maybe? The ability to manipulate, to cause despair, to fight with overwhelming strength and speed.
The bracer i have was a medium that could help me use it to a weakened state that I can control.
But if I wanted to, I could release it. Use the bracer to enter a controlled berserk state, tap into Terumi's full power for a limited time.
Dangerous. Incredibly dangerous. But also incredibly useful if I needed it.
Beneath that chaotic power, I sensed something else. Hazama's abilities. The chains—Ouroboros. The knife techniques. The speed and precision. All of it was there, waiting to be used.
That was more manageable. I could use Hazama's skills without risking a rampage.
I nodded to myself, filing that information away. I had options. I just needed to be smart about using them.
"Um, excuse me?"
I opened my eyes to find Yang and Ruby standing in front of me. Yang looked a bit distant, like her mind was elsewhere. Ruby looked excited and nervous at the same time.
"Mind if we sit here?" Yang asked.
"Not at all," I said, gesturing to the empty seats next to me.
They settled in, Ruby practically bouncing in her seat while Yang sat down more quietly than I'd expected.
"Thanks for earlier," Yang said. "With those jerks. You didn't have to do that."
"It was nothing," I said with a slight smile. "I just didn't want to see them cause trouble."
"Still. Thanks."
I nodded, then glanced around the Bullhead interior. Something had been bothering me since I'd boarded.
"Can I ask something?" I said. "Why is this called a Bullhead?"
Yang and Ruby exchanged confused looks.
"Because... that's what they're called?" Ruby said slowly.
"But it's just a standard Vale aircraft," I pointed out. "The design, the layout, everything. So why the different name?"
Yang shrugged. "I don't know. They've always been called Bullheads."
I frowned, reaching into the fuzzy memories for an answer. And there it was.
These aircraft had been redesigned and renamed years ago specifically to have better seating arrangements for male passengers. More legroom, more comfortable seats in certain sections. It was supposed to make travel "more dignified" for men.
The original Vale aircraft had been gender-neutral in design. These new ones weren't.
'Well, the women didn't get this treatment in the original RWBY,' I thought to myself, resisting the urge to sigh.