Jaune stared at Yang for a long second, the bottle still in his hand.
Clubbing and pregaming?
He slowly looked around the room. Something about this entire situation wasn't quite clicking in his head.
It wasn't that he didn't understand the concept. Pregaming was simple. You drank beforehand so you didn't have to spend a ridiculous amount of money on overpriced drinks at a club. That was common sense.
But…
His gaze drifted across the room again.
The issue here, was that everyone here were all Rank 1 awakened. That was where the logic started to wobble.
These weren't normal people. Even with the natural restrictions placed on awakened bodies in the real world, limiting them to ten percent of their Dream Realm capabilities, they were still far beyond human.
Strength, durability and even metabolism.
Everything really.
A normal person could get drunk off a few drinks.
A Rank 1?
An awakened at Rank 1 could chug rat poison and their body would treat it like water.
He exhaled slowly.
"In theory," he muttered under his breath, "this shouldn't even work."
Then he looked back at Yang.
"Okay, serious question," Jaune said, raising the bottle slightly. "How are we even supposed to be pre-gaming?"
Yang opened her mouth, already prepared to respond. But she didn't get the chance. A finger suddenly wagged into his field of vision.
"Tsk tsk tsk."
Jaune turned his head slightly.
Ruby stood there, swaying just a little on her feet, her expression far too pleased with itself.
She clicked her tongue softly.
"Oh Jaune," she said, her tone full of exaggerated disappointment as she shook her finger side to side. "Normally, you would be absolutely correct."
Jaune blinked.
Something felt off. He narrowed his eyes slightly, his special sense was pinging that her body was weaker than usual.
"…Ruby?"
She leaned in just a bit closer, her grin widening.
"This," she continued, lifting her own bottle slightly, "is not just any store bought liquor."
Jaune's gaze flicked to the bottle in her hand. Then back to her face. There was a faint flush across her cheeks. Her eyes had that slightly unfocused gleam to them.
A pause.
"…are you drunk?" he asked flatly.
Ruby gasped, placing a hand dramatically against her chest.
"I prefer the term… spiritually elevated."
Yang snorted from the side.
Jaune slowly turned his head back toward Yang.
"…she's drunk."
"Yep."
Jaune looked back at Ruby. There was perhaps somethin to be said about underage drinking, but considering that they were all warriors who fought creatures born from nightmare each night... perhaps that didn't particularly apply to them.
Besides, Jaune was more curious about something else.
"…how?"
Ruby perked up immediately, clearly delighted to explain. "This," she said proudly, lifting the bottle again, "is Uncle Qrow's special stash."
Understanding dawned on Jaune.
Qrow Branwen was a Rank 2.
A man whose entire identity could be summarized as an alcohol connoisseur and bad decisions wrapped together into one very dangerous package.
Ruby nodded sagely, as if delivering the final piece of an ancient secret.
"The booze possessed by a Rank 2," she declared, "is built different."
Yang folded her arms with a grin. "His stuff is strong enough to knock out a herd of elephants."
Jaune looked down at the bottle in his hand again.
Then back up.
"…you're kidding."
"Nope."
And before he could react further, Ruby moved. The bottle was suddenly pressed against his mouth.
"Drink!" she declared.
Jaune's eyes widened slightly.
"Wait, I—"
Too late. The liquid hit his tongue. And for a single, horrifying moment, time seemed to stopp.
Then—
Chaos.
It burned. Not like normal alcohol. No, this was something else entirely. It felt like liquid fire had decided to take up residence in his mouth and was now aggressively introducing itself to every nerve ending it could find.
Jaune choked.
His entire body jerked slightly as instinct screamed at him to reject whatever he had just consumed but he just barely managed to swallow it.
His face twisted instantly.
"What the hell is that?!" he coughed out, eyes watering slightly.
Around him, laughter erupted.
Nora and Mocha had nearly doubled over.
Yang was outright cackling and even Blake had to cover her mouth to hide a small smile.
Ren stepped forward, placing a sympathetic hand on Jaune's shoulder.
"…yeah," he said calmly. "It's bad."
Jaune stared at him in disbelief.
"Bad?" he rasped. "That's not just bad, that's chemical warfare, Ren."
From across the room, Weiss called out.
"Those labels are fake, by the way!"
Jaune blinked again, turning toward her.
"What?"
She gestured toward the bottle.
"Don't trust what it says," she continued. "That is not thirty five percent."
Jaune looked down at the label.
Whiskey. 35%.
He slowly raised the bottle again, inspecting it like it had personally betrayed him.
"Great."
He shook his head, still recovering from the initial shock.
Ruby beamed.
"It really is great, isn't it?!"
Jaune glanced at her.
"…why are you of all people excited about drinking this?"
"Oh I put chocolate syrup and coffee in mine. So it tastes sweet."
She took another swig.
Jaune stared at her in quiet disbelief.
Then sighed.
"…And you couldn't have done the same with mine?"
If this was happening, it was happening.
The next thirty minutes blurred together into a strange mix of laughter, terrible decisions, and progressively worse ideas.
Even Pyrrha was forced to join in.
Bottle after bottle and sip after sip.
Or, more accurately, chug after chug.
Jaune had never thought he would willingly subject himself to something like this, yet here he was, standing in his own living room, drinking what could only be described as ethanol alongside a group of equally questionable individuals.
At some point, the burn stopped being shocking.
It became… expected and familiar.
Still terrible but definitely more manageable.
Conversations grew louder and even laughter came easier.
Even Weiss, who had initially maintained some level of dignity, was now visibly more relaxed, her usual sharp composure softened at the edges.
Jaune himself felt… warm.
Not just physically. Everything felt just a little lighter.
A little easier?
The sharp edges of thought dulled slightly, replaced by a nice haze that made everything seem just a bit more amusing than it probably should have been.
Eventually, the final bottle was set down.
Empty.
Jaune exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair.
"…okay," he said. "I get it now."
Yang grinned.
"See?"
He nodded once.
"…yeah."
A brief pause.
Then he pointed at the bottle. "That is still really shit, however. Even with the chocolate syrup added."
"Also correct."
Ruby raised her hand enthusiastically. "Motion to never drink normal alcohol again!"
Weiss groaned. "Absolutely not."
Yang clapped her hands once. "Alright!"
The room shifted slightly as attention snapped back toward her. She rolled her shoulders, energy practically radiating off her.
"Everyone feeling good?"
A series of nods. Some more enthusiastic than others.
Jaune straightened slightly, rolling his neck.
"…yeah," he admitted. "I think so."
Yang's grin sharpened.
"Perfect."
She pointed toward the door. "Because now," she declared, "we go out."
"…we're actually doing this?"
Yang laughed.
"Of course we are!"
Ruby pumped her fist into the air.
"Clubbing!"
Nora cheered immediately after and Weiss sighed, but she was already grabbing her coat. Blake simply shook her head, though there was a faint smile on her lips.
Jaune looked around at all of them.
"…this is going to be a night."
Yang slung an arm around his shoulder.
"Oh, it absolutely is."
And with that, the group began moving. Out the door and into the night... and straight toward whatever chaos awaited them next.
.
.
It didn't take long before they reached the heart of downtown Vale.
The streets grew livelier the deeper they went. Neon lights began to bloom across storefronts, glowing in vibrant blues, reds, and electric purples that painted the pavement in shifting color. Music leaked from open doorways, basslines thumping faintly beneath the hum of conversation and distant laughter.
This part of the city was different. Alive in a way that daytime Vale never quite managed.
Clusters of bars lined the street, their signs flickering with stylized lettering and symbols. Some had open patios where people sat with drinks in hand, voices rising over one another in easy camaraderie. Others were darker, more enclosed, with heavy doors and guarded entrances that hinted at something louder and more intense inside.
Between them were smaller spots. Late night food stalls, tiny pizzerias with glowing ovens, and quick service counters selling everything from greasy fries to steaming noodles. The scent of baked dough, grilled meat, and sugary desserts drifted through the air, weaving together into something strangely comforting.
It was chaos.
Organized, vibrant chaos.
Jaune took it in with a quiet glance, his hands tucked into his pockets as he walked alongside the group. Truth be told, he recognized many of these places in Vale from his nighttime Dream Realm patrols.
Where in the Dream everything was decayed, here was life. The beauty of it was certainly something to behold.
"Okay," he muttered under his breath. "I get the appeal."
Yang, walking slightly ahead, turned back with a grin.
"Told you."
She led them further down the strip, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease. Eventually, they reached the far end of the street where the atmosphere shifted again.
Louder, darker and heavier.
There, standing like a monolith of noise and light, was their destination. A massive sign glowed overhead, stylized and sharp.
Junior's.
A long line stretched out from the entrance, filled with young men and women dressed in ways that left very little to the imagination. Flashing fabrics, tight silhouettes, bold colors. Confidence radiated off them like heat.
It was… a sight.
Jaune paused slightly when he sensed Oscar's emotions spike. Oscar coughed into his hand, trying very hard to look anywhere but directly at the scandalously dressed women in line.
Ren was experiencing a similar emotion but he hid his reactions well.
The three of them exchanged a brief glance.
Unspoken and mutually acknowledged.
Oscar cleared his throat again. "…this is… uh…"
"Stimulating?" Jaune offered dryly.
Oscar said nothing and they kept walking.
There was a small, collective understanding that none of them were going to elaborate on that moment any further.
As they approached the entrance, Jaune's thoughts shifted back to something more practical.
Underage. Every single one of them. By normal standards, they shouldn't even be allowed within ten meters of a place like this.
But… it was clear that Yang had already planned for that.
His gaze flicked toward the entrance. Two men stood at the front, arms crossed, expressions neutral.
Jaune's senses brushed against them and paused. His eyes narrowed slightly.
Both of them were Rank 1's.
"…huh," he murmured.
Yang nudged him lightly with her elbow.
"Hey," she said quietly, tilting her head toward the bouncers. "You feel them with your weakling sense don't you?"
Jaune nodded.
"Yeah. And for the record," he added, "it's called weakness sense. Not weakling sense."
"Same difference." Yang smirked.
"It's really not."
"Anyway," she ignored him and continued, "I haven't actually been here before, but Uncle Qrow told me about this place."
Jaune raised a brow.
"Oh?"
"Yeah," Yang said, glancing at the sign. "Apparently it used to be called something else. Dragon's Bar or something like that. Then it got changed to Junior's. Don't really know why."
Jaune's thoughts sharpened immediately. Dragon's Bar? That name didn't sit right.
Not at all.
His mind churned, pieces clicking together with quiet precision. Rank 1 guards. A location catering to awakened. A past name tied to dragons.
There was only one conclusion that made sense.
Dragon Gang.
A faint tension settled in his chest. Belmont flickered through his memory like a half-buried ember.
Not good. Not good at all.
Beside him, Yang seemed to pick up on the shift. She didn't say anything, but her hand came up, patting his arm once.
A silent reassurance. Jaune exhaled slowly and let it go. For now.
Yang clapped her hands together lightly.
"Alright," she said. "We're not waiting in line."
Before anyone could question that statement, she was already moving forward, cutting past the long queue without hesitation. Several people in line turned, confusion written across their faces as the group bypassed them entirely.
The two bouncers stepped forward slightly, their gazes sharpening.
Yang paused in front of them. For just a second, there was the faintest hint of uncertainty in her posture.
Then she reached into her pocket and pulled something out.
Her LUCID issued ID.
She held it up. The reaction was immediate. Both bouncers' eyes widened just slightly. Then, almost in unison, their expressions shifted into something far more accommodating.
They stepped aside.
"Go ahead," one of them said with a respectful nod.
No questions or hesitation. Not even an entry fee.
Behind them, the line erupted into quiet confusion.
"…what the hell?"
"Did they just walk in?"
"Are they VIPs or something?"
Jaune didn't look back. He stepped inside with the rest of the group and the world changed.
Music slammed into their ears.
Bass pounded through the floor, vibrating up through Jaune's legs and into his chest. Lights flashed in chaotic patterns, sweeping across a sea of moving bodies that filled the dance floor.
The air was thick with energy, heat and movement. It was overwhelming in a way that was almost impressive.
Jaune blinked his eyes, adjusting. "…ugh," he muttered. "This is… a lot. Gonna have to get used to it."
Before he could process further, his senses prickled.
An odd gaze. Ordinarily, he would have filtered it out, but this one made his special sense slightly wary. He turned his head slightly, scanning.
There. Off to the side, near the bar. One of the bouncers stood, speaking with a man while pointing in their direction.
He had short cropped hair and sharp features.
His emotions were also very calm.
Jaune's senses brushed against him and and stilled.
He was a Rank 2.
The man's eyes met his. For a brief moment, the noise of the club seemed to dull at the edges.
The man gave a small nod.
Not hostile or friendly, just… acknowledgment.
Jaune held his gaze for a second longer, then looked away. Yang leaned in slightly. "Don't worry about it," she said casually. "He's the owner here. You can just ignore him. He shouldn't bother us."
Jaune hesitated then nodded.
"Alright."
She grinned.
"Good."
And before he could say anything else, her hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. "Now," she declared, already pulling him forward, "we dance."
Jaune stumbled half a step as he was dragged toward the center of the chaos.
"Wait, I—"
Too late. The crowd swallowed them whole. Lights flashed and music roared. And somewhere in the madness, Yang laughing as she pulled him deeper into the storm.