Unsaid
Disclaimer: RWBY is the intellectual property of Rooster Teeth. I claim no ownership.
It was early morning for Vale. The air was chilled by a light breeze that played across the land. As the sun rose its light fell upon a figure sitting under a tree. It did nothing to hinder their blank stare though.
Jaune didn't know how long he had sat there, only that it had been dark for a long time until now. He hadn't been able to sleep much lately. And the odd times that he managed to catch some shut-eye were tainted with memories and nightmares. It was enough to drive a person insane. Not that he cared much about that.
Blue eyes shifted to look at the ground where a red leaf lay. If it weren't a shade or two off it would've been horribly familiar. That thought alone thrust another dagger of grief into his chest. It didn't make him a blubbering mess anymore though. It just made him spit out a pathetic laugh. He couldn't even look at the color red anymore without having dirt rubbed into his face.
It had been a few days since Pyrrha's...since Pyrrha left. The first two days were a blur of sorrow and anger. He had burned up the worst of it and what was left was a persistent echo of those feelings. Ren and Nora had tried to comfort him but their words felt like hollow platitudes. Team RWBY was lost in their own mess. That was just fine, he thought while trying to ignore the resulting guilt. Four less people to try and reassure him that everything would be okay when it wouldn't. Hell, they'd probably agree with him at this point.
"Pyrrha..."
The name slipped easily from Jaune's lips, as though its mere utterance would right all that had gone wrong. He wasn't surprised when all it did was fill him conflicting feelings like it had done so every other time.
He missed her so much that it hurt. But he also hated her with a righteous fury he had never felt before. He regretted that he hated her but then hated her even more for making him feel like the guilty party. It was a vicious cycle that had drained Jaune of all of his energy, leaving little more than a despondent husk.
'There's no time,' she had said.
'Then make time!' he wished he had responded.
That was something he had been doing a lot of recently. Regretting, that is. There was so much he wished he could've said and done throughout their partnership, but none more so than during that fateful moment.
He could still feel her lips if he thought back hard enough. They were soft against his chapped lips. The warmth from her hands seeped through her gloves and only served to make his cheeks feel so dreadfully cold now. He hated her for it.
She chose that moment to open his eyes to what he had been so blissfully unaware of this entire time. Then she left him all alone, wondering what could have been. He wanted to say that he loved her like she loved him. He wanted to say that he would do his best to make her happy as her boyfriend. But he couldn't. He just didn't know because she never gave him that chance. Now he was left with the wilted flower of his half-realized feelings and cold regret. That alone made him hate her more than he hated anything.
It was the truth. But it was also a lie. She had believed in him when no one else did. She gave him almost everything that brought him to this point. She gave him a chance when that was all he had ever asked for. That dedication to him had pushed her to save him at her own expense. He hated her for that too.
She knew that he didn't want to be the useless burden. He had told her of his dream of being a hero; and what hero would leave his best friend to fight a hopeless battle by herself? All of that was disregarded when she threw him into the locker and sent him to relative safety.
'I'm sorry,' she had told him.
'Sorry for what?!' he wished he had shot back.
Was she sorry for leaving him to fight a hopeless fight? Was she sorry for confessing her feelings only to render them void immediately after? Was she sorry for pushing away his assistance? For making him the damsel-in-distress he told her he didn't want to be? He didn't know and it would be something he'd carry on his shoulders for the rest of his life. He knew it.
He hated her. But he loved her. But he hated her too.
If he had any energy Jaune would've punched the ground. As it was, he settled for glaring blankly into the distance.
It could've been seconds or minutes later but the soft sound of the grass being scuffed by feet filtered into his ear. He didn't bother turning his head to regard the person. Frankly, he didn't give a Dust who it was as long as they left him alone.
"Jaune?"
The voice was familiar in its sound but it almost jarred him with its difference in tone. He slowly turned his head and locked eyes with Weiss Schnee. The heiress looked unusually demure. The sight of the strong and proud young woman acting so cowed would have made him grimace if her presence didn't flood his chest with bitterness.
Weiss shuffled in place, "Do you mind if I take a seat?"
He did actually. His only response was to turn away and stare back out into the distance. The Huntress-in-training must have understood his silence as an implicit approval and walked closer to sit next to him. There was a long moment of silence as Jaune tried to ignore her before Weiss finally broke the silence.
"I...I'm going to be going home soon. To Atlas, that is. My father is coming to take me."
'Good riddance,' he thought.
"I'm sorry," he said. He could see her shake her head in his peripheral.
"Don't be," she said. "It's not your fault. It's...it's that woman's fault."
The venom with which she referred to that woman in red was far more reminiscent of the Weiss he knew. It also made him think of her as a hypocrite.
'It's your fault too,' he thought, despite the fact that what he was referring to was different from what she was referring to.
"Have you told your team?" he asked instead.
"I've told Yang but she's still...she's still recovering. Ruby hasn't woken up yet and Blake...," she trailed off.
'It doesn't feel good to lose those you care about, does it?' he thought spitefully.
"I hope she comes back soon," he said with only a hint of sincerity.
There was a moment of silence before Weiss responded, "So do I."
Quiet overtook them again for several minutes before the heiress finally stood up.
"I'm going to go now, Jaune. I should see if Ruby's woken up so I can tell her," she said before walking away. Her feet had made four steps before they stopped and she turned around.
"Jaune?"
He shifted his face just enough to gaze at her sidelong.
"I'm sorry," she told him.
'Sorry won't bring her back,' he thought bitterly.
Instead, he shook his head, "It's not your fault, Weiss."
His sapphire eyes returned to the horizon. Weiss' presence lingered for just a moment longer before she continued walking away. He was glad. He didn't want to say something unforgivable, even if he meant it. Weiss didn't deserve that. That wasn't the sort of person he wanted to be.
That wasn't the sort of person Pyrrha died to protect.
It was another two hours before Jaune stood up as well. His chest rose as he took in a deep, shuddering breath. The next breath was far smoother. By the time he took his fourth breath he felt confident in his ability to pretend like he was at least sorta okay. He had to go meet up with the rest of his team before they went looking for him. Nora was especially unbearable when she had to hunt him down.
He tucked his hands into his pockets and walked away, trying to ignore that gnawing emptiness in his chest.
A/N: That finale, eh?
I was inspired to write this both by my own feelings regarding the finale and by College Fool's and Couer Al'Aran's opinions on on Pyrrha's death. I agree with the both of them that it was the best possible decision RT has made regarding Pyrrha's character and the story as a whole. I'm kind of afraid that RT will just gloss over the immediate consequences on Jaune's mental and emotional state so I hope this will be a good substitute if that's the case.