Ozpin sat at his desk, staring blankly at the stack of papers in front of him.
The initiation had gone well. Nobody had died. Good.
But now? Now came a different kind of horror.
Paperwork.
Endless, soul-crushing paperwork.
Forms for student housing. Training schedules. Safety waivers that, frankly, felt deeply inadequate for a school that launched teenagers into the wilderness.
He pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Alright. Step one: pretend this doesn't exist."
With great deliberation, he reached forward—
—grabbed the entire stack—
—and pushed it slightly to the left.
Problem solved.
For now.
---
Step Twenty: The Ruby Rose Situation
A knock at the door.
He straightened immediately. Headmaster mode: engaged.
"Come in."
The door opened, and in walked a familiar girl—hood up, red cloak billowing slightly as she stepped inside.
Ruby Rose.
He had expected this.
Still, seeing her up close—knowing who she was, who she would become—made something settle in his chest.
She was small. So young.
She had no idea what awaited her.
"Miss Rose," he greeted, steepling his fingers like a man who definitely knew what he was doing. "Please, have a seat."
She sat.
Then immediately started fidgeting.
He could see it—the energy barely contained, the way she bounced slightly as if sitting still was physically painful.
He almost smiled.
Almost.
Instead, he cleared his throat. "You must be wondering why I called you here."
"Um. Kind of?"
"Tell me, Miss Rose," he said, tilting his head just slightly. "Why do you want to become a Huntress?"
She perked up. "Oh! Well, uh—because I've always wanted to help people!"
Good answer.
"And," she continued, "because I think it'd be cool! And my uncle always told me stories, and I really wanna be like him, and—"
She kept going.
And going.
And going.
Ozpin blinked.
She was still talking.
Had he broken her?
He took a slow sip of coffee, watching as she continued to rapid-fire words at speeds previously thought impossible.
Ah, he thought, sipping again. I see. She is a Ruby.
Eventually, she trailed off, looking slightly out of breath.
He set his cup down. "A noble goal," he said smoothly, as if he had absorbed even half of what she just said.
She beamed.
He leaned back slightly, shifting into mystery mode. "You are younger than most of your peers."
She straightened. "I can keep up!"
"I don't doubt it."
A pause. He studied her for a moment.
This was where Ozpin—the real Ozpin—would likely say something cryptic and wise.
Unfortunately, he was not the real Ozpin.
So instead, he reached for the one true universal constant.
"Miss Rose," he said gravely.
She leaned in.
"Would you like a cookie?"
Silence.
Ruby blinked.
Then:
"…Yes?"
He smiled.
Perfect.
Step Twenty-One: The First Big Mistake
The meeting had gone well.
Ruby had left practically vibrating with excitement.
Everything was fine.
And then, twenty minutes later, Glynda stormed into his office.
"Why is Miss Rose enrolled at Beacon?"
Ozpin blinked. "…Because I invited her?"
Her expression was flat. "Without consulting anyone?"
"Correct."
A pause.
A long pause.
Glynda took a slow breath, adjusting her glasses. "You do realize this will cause problems with the student housing arrangements."
…Oh.
Right.
That was a thing.
"Ah," he said wisely. "I see."
"You don't see anything," she said, exasperated.
"…Correct."
Another pause.
Then, with great reluctance, he glanced at the dreaded paperwork pile—the one he had definitely not just ignored earlier.
It stared back.
Mocking him.
…He was going to have to actually do this, wasn't he?
He sighed.
"Professor Goodwitch," he said solemnly, "how do you feel about taking on a small administrative task?"
Her eye twitched.
"Handle your own mess, Ozpin."
Then she turned and walked out.
Ozpin stared at the door.
Then at the paperwork.
Then back at the door.
Then back at the paperwork.
He groaned.
This job was going to kill him.