"What number was that?"
"Fifty seven."
"Fifty seven!" Jaune repeats unbelievingly, straining his voice. "We've only been out here for…" He checks his scroll, groaning to himself. "An hour and ten minutes!"
Yes. And in that hour and ten minutes, you've lost against me fifty seven times…but I know it's not his fault. He's just inexperienced.
"Well, look on the bright side," I say optimistically, stretching my arms above my head. "We're over halfway done for tonight."
"Yeah. By ten minutes."
"Correct."
Jaune groans, and wipes sweat from his brow. To be fair, we have been at this for a while. But, then again, practice makes perfect. A lot of practice.
"We could take a break, if you wish," I offer. I'd rather that he continue to train as hard as he possibly can, but he's been pushing himself lately, so…
…Oh my. There's that smile. Don't grin in return Pyrrha. Small smile, small smile!
"Yeah, I wish that. I wish that a lot. Thanks," Jaune, erm…expresses gratefully, in that Jaune way of his. He sets his sword and shield on the ground before lying down on his back, folding his arms behind his head. I sit down beside him, crossing my legs underneath myself, and look towards the horizon.
Jaune is the first to break the silence.
"Hey, Pyrrha?"
I don't mind the prospect of conversation, and it gives me a good excuse to look at Jaune. I do just that, and don that small constricted smile that I wear so often.
"Yes?"
"When did you start training?" Jaune askes, looking up to the stars. "With a weapon, I mean. For tournaments, and Grimm, and…stuff."
His eloquence is one of the most charming things about him.
"Well…I can hardly remember." I wrack my brain for a moment before answering. "I believe I was five…no, six." I nod, as if to assure myself, and follow his gaze towards the sky. "I was six years old."
"You were using a weapon when you were six?"
Ha. 'Weapon'.
"It was a wooden practice sword made of hickory," I tell him, a laugh in my voice. "I'd hardly call it a weapon. But yes, I started fairly young." I dare a glance in his direction. "Why do you ask?"
"To get a bit of perspective. I only started training with you…what, five months ago?"
"Six months."
And two weeks. And three days. I'm hopeless.
"Yeah, six months. And you've been at it for over eleven years. I have so much to catch up on, and…" Jaune pauses, presumably collecting his thoughts before continuing, his voice a touch somber. "I've just been wondering to myself if maybe I started too late. Too late to do what I want to do. To be what I want to be."
Has he been thinking about this often? Have I just not noticed? What does that say about me? What does that say about our friendship? What does that say about his view of me?
No, stop. Focus. Jaune needs help, so help him.
I stand up, walk over to him, and sit down beside him. He takes an idle glance up at me, but doesn't protest in any way. Okay, good. Physical proximity should help. It should make him feel less alone. Now I just need to say something…
"…There's a phrase about that," I finally say. "It's on the tip of my tongue…"
"Hindsight is twenty/twenty?"
"Better late than never." I brace myself mentally before looking directly at Jaune's face, my heart racing but my mind keeping my voice calm. "It doesn't matter if you didn't begin to commit yourself until recently. All that matters is that you have, and that you will continue to apply yourself until you reach your full potential."
"Which could be a while."
I rest my hand on his shoulder. His pauldron is cold to the touch.
"Only because you have such high potential, Jaune. Ruby sees it. I see it. What will it take for you to see it?"
He turns his head towards me with a defeated smile.
"If I knew that, I wouldn't be having this conversation."
Well…fair enough. But not good enough.
"Just promise me that you'll try to have some faith in yourself," I plead quietly.
Jaune isn't responding. Is he thinking, or is that a no? I need to try harder. I don't want to guilt him, but if it helps him in the long term, then so be it.
"It would give everyone some peace of mind."
"What would there be to worry about?"
That you may one day tread down a one way path of self-destructive depression. But I can hardly tell him that. There is one thing I could say as a last resort, but…no, it's stupid. It might not even work. And if it didn't, I don't know if I could recover. But…here goes.
"…For me, Jaune?" I practically whisper.
Oh. Oh no. I said it. It's out there, and I can't take it back. What if he misinterprets what I said? And why hasn't he said anything!?
"…Yeah. Okay."
I blink. Really?
"Okay?"
"I promise."
Wait, but that still doesn't tell me anything. Does he think that he means more to me than he previously thought, or does he just think that request was made as a friend? Though, given his renown obliviousness, I'd say the latter…I'm probably in the clear. I should stop worrying so much.
I notice my hand is still on his shoulder. I don't move it. I have the urge to hold his hand, to make him feel better, to make him feel reassured, but this will just have to do.
We remained there for a while in comfortable silence, looking up at the stars. It crosses my mind that this could be perceived as romantic.
I don't allow myself such hope.
But a girl can dream.