Wake Up As Ozpin

Ozpin had exactly three problems.

One: He had signed himself up for a combat tournament. Two: He did not know how to fight. Three: People expected him to be good at it.

This was bad.

It was one thing to dodge Glynda's attacks through sheer dumb luck. It was another thing entirely to fight in front of an arena full of people expecting a legendary performance from Ozpin, the Mysterious and Powerful Headmaster of Beacon™.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Alright. Think. There has to be a way out of this."

Fake an injury? Too obvious.

Declare the tournament unethical? Too suspicious.

Start a war so the tournament gets canceled? Tempting, but no.

He sighed.

That left only one option.

Step Forty-Four: Actually learn how to fight.

---

Step Forty-Five: Desperate Times, Desperate Training

Training alone was out of the question. He had no idea where to start, and if anyone caught him practicing how to hold his own cane, his cover was blown.

So, logically, he needed a teacher.

Someone strong. Someone skilled. Someone who wouldn't question why the supposedly immortal headmaster needed basic combat lessons.

A list formed in his head.

Glynda - Too sharp. Would definitely notice something was off.

Qrow - Also too sharp. Would ask way too many questions.

Ironwood - No. Just no.

Taiyang - Wrong side of Patch. Would take too long to arrange.

That left…

The students.

Ozpin steepled his fingers. "Alright. Who's my best bet?"

Pyrrha Nikos was the obvious choice. Champion of Mistral. Combat genius. Could probably teach a rock how to fight.

But if anyone would notice something was off, it was her.

He needed someone competent but not too observant.

…Jaune?

…No. Just—no.

His fingers drummed against the desk.

And then, like a sign from the heavens—

A knock at the door.

"Come in," he called, already bracing for whatever fresh disaster awaited.

The door opened.

Blond hair. Blue eyes. Unreadable expression.

Yang Xiao Long.

Ozpin blinked.

Oh.

Oh, this could work.

---

Step Forty-Six: Trick Yang Xiao Long Into Training You

Yang leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.

"So," she drawled, "you're the reason my sister's here early."

Ah.

Ozpin smiled. "Indeed."

"She's been talking my ear off about it," Yang continued, stepping forward. "Not that I mind, but I figured I should meet the guy who fast-tracked her into the big leagues."

She was studying him. Not with Glynda's sharpness, not with Qrow's suspicion, but with the easy confidence of someone who thought they had already figured him out.

That was good. That meant she wouldn't question things too much.

"I see," he said smoothly. "And did I meet your expectations?"

She smirked. "Honestly? I thought you'd be taller."

He resisted the urge to sigh. "A common observation."

Yang plopped into the chair across from him, boots up on his desk.

"So," she said, "what's your deal?"

"My… deal?"

"You do all the wise old mentor stuff, sure," she waved a hand. "But Glynda's the one who actually runs the school, and half the students are convinced you don't even leave your office. So—what's your thing?"

…That was a very good question.

Unfortunately, he had no answer.

Step Forty-Seven: Stall.

He took a slow sip of coffee. "And what, exactly, do you think my 'thing' is?"

Yang grinned. "Oh, I dunno. Cryptic nonsense? Drinking coffee dramatically? Secretly being crazy good at fighting?"

He nearly choked.

"Ah," he said, stalling. "That."

"Yeah," Yang continued. "I mean, you were the one who trained Glynda, right? And she's scary good."

Pause.

Wait.

Did—did Ozpin actually train Glynda?

He had no idea.

But he could not admit that.

So instead, he smiled in the most cryptic way possible.

"Indeed," he said, as if that answered anything.

Yang whistled. "Man. Must be wild being that strong."

She leaned forward, eyes glinting. "You ever think about showing off? Y'know, giving the students a little demonstration?"

…Oh, he was so close.

This was perfect.

All he had to do was twist the conversation just a little further—

"Hypothetically," he said, "if I were to demonstrate, how do you think I should go about it?"

Yang grinned. "Well, obviously, you'd need to go all out. Maybe a spar? Something flashy."

He hummed. "Perhaps. But who, I wonder, would be a suitable opponent?"

She snorted. "Well, if you're really as good as everyone thinks, I'd totally fight you."

Bingo.

"An intriguing proposal," he said, as if he hadn't just baited her into it.

Yang shrugged. "Hey, I won't say no to a challenge."

Ozpin smiled, folding his hands.

Step Forty-Eight: Successfully Trick Yang Xiao Long Into Training You.

---

Step Forty-Nine: Avoid Dying in the Process

The next morning, Ozpin stood in one of Beacon's private training rooms, cane in hand, questioning all of his life choices.

Across from him, Yang stretched her arms, rolling her shoulders.

"Alright, Oz," she said, grinning. "Let's see what you've got."

Right.

Right.

This was fine.

Everything was fine.

Step Fifty: Absolutely Do Not Die.