Swing! Batter, Batter! Swing!

Chapter 3: Batter up! Jaune Arc! (2)

In the cozy, dimly lit teacher's lounge, Ozpin sat at a small table with Glynda, the soft clink of cutlery and the distant hum of academy life providing a calming backdrop. The headmaster cradled a warm cup of cocoa in his hands, steam rising in gentle swirls as he scrolled through the news on his device. Across from him, Glynda was quietly enjoying a meal she had saved from earlier, the aroma of the reheated food mingling with the rich scent of chocolate.

Ozpin glanced up from his scroll, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You know," he began casually, "he almost got into a fight in the courtyard today."

Glynda arched a brow, her fork pausing mid-air. "Who?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Jaune," Ozpin replied with a light chuckle, setting his scroll down.

Glynda groaned softly, setting her utensil aside as she rubbed her temple in mild exasperation. "I can't believe it," she muttered, shaking her head. The thought of Jaune, causing trouble before the year even began was both embarrassing and yet... predictable.

Ozpin's chuckle deepened, a knowing gleam in his eyes. "Well, he certainly has your rebellious streak," he said, leaning back in his chair as memories danced in his mind. "I still remember the first time I ever saw you,"

Glynda's eyes narrowed playfully, immediately recognizing where this conversation was headed. She held up a hand in mock protest. "Please, don't,"

But Ozpin pressed on, undeterred, his tone light with nostalgia. "You were a prodigy, just like Summer," he began, his voice carrying the weight of years gone by. "But unlike her, you had a...reputation, a bit of a delinquent, if I recall, spoke your mind without hesitation, and most of us—myself included—thought you were all talk, then, of course, you entered the Vytal Festival... Wiped out team after team, one after the other, and by the time it was over, everyone knew your name,"

Glynda couldn't help but smile at the old story, though a hint of bashfulness colored her features. "That was a long time ago," she said quietly, picking at her food as if to distract from the growing embarrassment.

Ozpin nodded, swirling the cocoa in his cup. "Yes, but some legends are hard to forget, I think there are still a few in Atlas who refer to you as 'The Wicked Witch'," His eyes sparkled with amusement at the title.

Glynda snorted, finally giving in to the humor of it. "That nickname should've died years ago,"

"Maybe," Ozpin mused with a grin, "but it hasn't, you left quite the impression, even Qrow, and James—pardon my language—were scared shitless of you,"

Glynda chuckled, the sound low and genuine as she leaned back in her chair. "Oh, I'm sure I still scare the shit out of them,"

Ozpin smiled warmly, raising his cup in a mock toast. "Of that, I have no doubt," he replied. Ozpin then swirled the cocoa in his mug thoughtfully, his gaze distant. "Makes me wonder what Jaune will turn out like," he mused aloud, a trace of curiosity in his voice.

Glynda chuckled softly, though there was an edge of self-reflection in it. "Hopefully, not as bad as me," she quipped, though the humor in her tone was laced with a hint of guilt.

Ozpin hummed in agreement, offering her a playful smile. "Hopefully not. But if he does get out of line, I'm sure you can keep him in check, you know... like a good mother would," he teased gently, though his eyes watched her closely for any shift in her expression.

Glynda let out a long, tired sigh. "Hopefully," she muttered, her voice quieter now, as if the weight of the conversation was slowly pressing down on her. She tried to busy herself with her meal, but Ozpin's next words cut through the tension.