Chapter 10: How to Want for a Better Tomorrow

Waking up to Jaune gathering everyone around had perhaps been a bigger surprise than Jaune being awake itself. He'd always seemed so unwilling to talk before the fact that he now wanted to, had Yang wondering if he hadn't been replaced with an alien. If he had been, it was damn convincing.

Then the story itself began, the long-awaited truth. Yang couldn't say what had changed Jaune's mind, what had loosened his tongue. Maybe he'd just altogether given up when he realized they wouldn't back down? Maybe, god forbid, he wanted to confide in everyone now? Whatever it was, he was here sitting before them, having removed his shirt so he could thumb the tiny bullet wound in his chest, blue eyes deadly sharp, dry lips set tight. The bleating hot spray of the sun covered him in a glistening sheen of sweat, though she wondered if perhaps the visible anxiety he showed wasn't also a contributing factor. Gods, he was beautiful.

But what wasn't beautiful were the obvious, obvious delusions he'd been spewing for the past twenty minutes. Bullshit, she thought, it all had to be bullshit.

But no one was arguing the point. As she looked around, she saw the pale sclera surrounded by shrunken pupils adorning every face in their little therapy circle. Ruby had covered her mouth, Weiss gaped like a land-locked fish, and Pyrrha had shut her eyes, lips curled up like she could see the words before her and made her want to retch. And who wouldn't? Professor Ozpin, their resident weird and aloof headmaster, covering up a child's death, for which Jaune was at least partially responsible? Ridiculous. Impossible.

But Jaune was not laughing. Nor was anyone else and nor was she. It could only mean one thing then.

"Jaune, that's…" Blake started but couldn't finish.

"Over with," Jaune said hoarsely, trying to get to his feet. He stumbled, back stiffening like a lance had been stabbed into him. Ruby was at his side immediately, caught him before he could fall, and Jaune didn't fight her. He normally showed much more resistance, "You all wanted to know, so I told you. That good enough?"

"Good enough?" Nora questioned, eyebrows sharpened as she could hardly believe how flippant on the matter he sounded. "You can't just leave it there. What else happened? Why would the headmaster cover this up?"

"He never told me directly, but I guess that it would ruin my reputation," Jaune answered through gritted teeth. He looked superbly uncomfortable, like an animal in a cage much too small for it. But Ruby still sat with her, her smaller hand in his, squeezing tight. He looked at her, but Ruby didn't cower away, only met his tired, even gaze. Someone would back down. Seconds later, Jaune sighed. "Because children need to look up to me and want to become Huntsmen. I'm a tool in all of this, and no offense, if I'm a tool…"

All of them would be tools, it needn't be said.

"It just doesn't sound like something the Huntsmen would need to do," Ruby said, "It's not like our jobs are complicated. Being transparent would be better for us in the long run. We're supposed to do the right thing."

"What is the right thing?" Ren pitched, hair a tangled mess. "The world loves Jaune. If something stains his career, who knows how it'll affect public opinion. By all means, he's our poster boy. There'd be an uproar, an uprising perhaps, and discord among the people draws the Grimm. I can't lie and say that covering up that boy's death doesn't, in fact, save the world. And isn't that what we, as Huntsmen, are ultimately striving for?"

Yang bit her lip. No one argued that, not even Jaune.

"Are you kidding me?" Blake argued, "That is the death of a child. Saving the world can't justify it."

"Can't it?" Weiss said, "What is the Huntsman system if not a business? The most important business in the world. It stood for hundreds, maybe thousands of years, and somehow in all that time the collective integrity and honor of this business has been squeaky clean?"

"Weiss—"

"I'm not saying I agree. I'm saying that to think our predecessors have maintained peace through honorable means only is a fallacy." Weiss's eyes lowered, "Business in itself lends to corruption as they grow more powerful. When you're weak, when you're the underdog, you can keep your integrity. That changes when you get richer, more influential, more powerful. With all of that considered, what's the point in arguing about this? What can even be done about it?"

She had a point there, even Yang had to agree. It was funny to look back on now, surrounded by the smartest Grimm she'd ever encountered, right off the cusp of starvation and descent into madness… that the world was still in a time of peace. The kingdoms were more united than they'd ever been even before Jaune's meteoric rise in fame. He'd simply become the securing thread, the proposal ring on every kingdom's collectively ambitious fingers, binding and lasting. To rip that away? To have an equally meteoric fall? The sheer fallout would be nothing short of nuclear, atomic… world-ending in many ways.

What was a little boy's death compared?

"Influencing children… that's so… smart." Ren chuckled mirthlessly. "I just didn't think it'd be so blatant."

"You mean dishonest." Blake frowned.

"Manipulative." Jaune seemed to bite the word like he wanted to gnash it in his teeth until it was mush. "Welcome to how things really are. Sorry, it's a downer. But that's the reason I wanted to tell you all—Weiss is right, there's not a damn thing we can do about it. So I figured you were all better off not knowing."

"Maybe there's another reason for it," Ruby said, "Maybe it's something Ozpin didn't tell you about."

"You think so?" Nora asked, eyebrows shooting up behind her bangs.

"I don't know, it just… it doesn't sound right. It's too underhanded. That's not what Huntsmen do. We're supposed to do the right thing. " Ruby lowered her head, whispered it again. "Were supposed to do the right thing."

Even Yang was having a hard time navigating that. Peacetime or not, the world still mostly belonged to the Grimm, by a huge margin. Backsliding from that took away from hundreds of years of human progress. The fact that it was hard to reconcile that argument in itself was disturbing.

"Why keep quiet about this, Jaune?"

"Ozpin told me to, said I had to, tried to say it wasn't my fault." Jaune shrugged. "And here we are."

"And what if you didn't stay silent?"

"He only said, "What's happened has happened. We can only move forward." he insisted on it." Jaune shrugged, "I guess I didn't think about whether I would say anything. I just wanted to trust that the adults would handle everything…"

No one said much of anything. There were no questions to ask, and yet so many that needed to be asked. This was far above them, orders from high, surely they knew better about why such a thing had been done. Things adults took care of, right? Nothing to worry about.

Nothing to worry about...

Skinship, the Mistraleans called it. According to them, bathing in groups was a good way to foster trust and familiarity in a group. Co-workers, friends, family, hell even strangers. Yang remembered bathing with Ruby when they were little, and couldn't say for sure if that had fostered trust or closeness, even if it likely was a contributing factor. But breaking the skin barrier with a sibling was quite different than with friends.

But there was a first time for everything out here in the wild. No washing machines, no driers, and no private showers.

There was a prevailing silence over their little nude party, parked on the grass at the edge of an outcropping of the spring. Cold water peeled off a jutting edge of the rockface, splitting it into two to spill into the smooth stone bad in a foamy white gush. Nora was hanging clothes on vines Blake had fashioned into clotheslines, the others passing her any of the clothes that they'd finished scrubbing through, be it against the stones or just against the other. The rest of them were lined side by side, cleaning away, like seamstresses at sewing machines.

It was humbling in a way, the sheer miracle that the water had been running warm due to the baking sun beating on their necks, the smooth stones almost cushiony enough to sit on bare-assed. Yang worked at scrubbing the two ends of her jacket together, smiling as the color began to return, grass and dirt stains vanishing into the water. Relaxing in a way. She never thought she'd be happy doing laundry.

Her muscles didn't ache with blistering protest, her legs didn't cry from being overworked, for the first time in a while, it felt like she was at full strength again. Felt like she could take on anything. Pack of Primals? No problem. Beringel? She'd live for the challenge.

"Yang…" Ruby whispered, kneeled next to her, dark hair slick wet to her face and neck, "What Jaune said, if this has always been happening… do you think it could have something to do with mom?"

Yang paused, then shook her head. "No way. Mission, remember? Huntsmen go missing all the time. Even ones as good as Mom."

"What ever happened to her guild?"

The Silent Hawk, the guild her mother was part of after the breakup of the team. A small-time guild stationed on the edge of Patch, and at the time she'd been 6th on the Huntsman ranking board in the world. She deserved to be with the Swords of the Morning or some other prolific guild, but she'd chosen the one closest to home, even for significantly less pay. It was a good guild, Yang still remembered some people from it. "Gone now, I think they disbanded after she died. Why?"

Ruby put her lips to the side, eyes sharpening in thought. "Maybe Uncle Qrow or Dad know more. I mean, the guild just disappearing? That makes no sense."

"Guilds go out of business, Rubes. Dad's been in a few that didn't last. Besides, Dad and Uncle Qrow wouldn't know anything about this stuff."

Ruby stared at her, blinked. "Why wouldn't they?"

"They just… wouldn't. Uncle Qrow—"

"Only works as a substitute teacher. He doesn't have a guild he goes to—Mom's guild was the only one on the island. He doesn't even have a house. And I know he says it's because he's always on the move, always on assignments." Ruby paused, "But has Uncle Qrow ever told us who he works for?"

Never had. Yang didn't even think she'd ever asked. He was out doing good work, that was enough for her.

"And then there's your mother—"

"Ruby, we've been over this. Never call her my mother. Ever." Raven Branwen deserved no such honor

No such respect. The most Yang would ever give her is the decency of not aborting her. To deliver her to a woman who actually loved her.

"Sorry, Raven then. Uncle Qrow said she was passionate about being a Huntress, right? Her leaving was what split the team. But why? What happened that was so bad that she left?"

Damn Ruby and her perceptive mind, she was doing a good job of making Yang painfully curious. An assemblage of questions shuffling in her head like a deck of cards. Who did her uncle work for? Why did Dad never talk about Raven? Was what happened to Mom the truth? Her death, as much as she hated to admit it, wasn't important enough to cover up. Couldn't have been. Why ever would it be?

"Maybe it's a big misunderstanding. Jaune is stressed, he admitted that he sees and hears things sometimes when he's worked up. I mean, he's not exactly all there right now." Felt bad to say it but it was true. That year alone had been a learning experience alright—a hellish one.

"Then why are you trying to sleep with him?"

Yang froze. Felt like being called out, she had been, by Ruby of all people. "I-I don't know what you mean."

"I'm not blind, sis," Ruby said, her stockings, riddled with holes and slash marks snapping at the air as she flapped them, sprays of water pattering Yang's skin. She supposed not, and that was incredibly annoying. Easy to forget sometimes, easy to think Ruby would be little miss innocent all her life. Now as she looked at her, her round face was growing more defined, once baby smooth skin was nicked with cuts and permanent wounds, scars from intense training, hair a wild frizz about her. Not a little girl anymore, the world was carving a woman out of her.

Where had the time gone? Yang suddenly missed the days before the tournament. When everything had been so damn simple. So damn easy. Why did they have to go? Why? "Well, I need you to trust that I know what I'm doing, Ruby. Not exactly something I like talking about."

"I do trust you, Yang," Ruby said, eyes waning like she had seen the future and couldn't reveal it. Like she could only see tragedy on the horizon. "You guys can do what you want. Just think about if this is really what you or he need. There are more important things going on. That's all I'm saying."

Sounded like Mom too, strangely enough. Yang sighed. Stress relief was all it was. Maybe something would even bloom out of it if Pyrrha's assumption about Jaune's feelings was correct. Sure, there were more important things going on, things that could very well kill them. Even if they were relaxed right now, it by no means guaranteed things would stay that way. They were still trapped on this fucking island, sitting at the edge of a spring butt-ass naked scrubbing the filth out of their clothes by hand. Who wouldn't want a bit of an escape? It was better than sitting around, letting her frustration do the fucking. Ruby made a good point, but it was wasted on her. She was fine.

Yang kept telling herself this even while her little sister's advice continued to wrack her brain, making her swallow a hefty lump of guilt, hoping it'd stay down.

It didn't.

Pyrrha Nikos could handle a lot of things… a love confession was, quite hilariously, not among those things.

Even thinking about it felt like being stabbed, with a rusty hooked blade, twisting, grinding, scraping against her bones like a sword against a whetstone. Made her want to cry. She had cried, all that night, and hadn't gotten even the slightest tease of sleep. But hell if that made her tired, oh no, she had to still be wide awake and tireless. And have nothing but these goddamn clothes to scrub to distract herself. If it wasn't obvious, it wasn't working.

Oh yes, then the anger came. The raw, unbridled sting that had made the tears feel so hot it was like they were being boiled on her cheeks. But she knew she didn't deserve to be angry, that by all means was Jaune's right… but she couldn't help it at this point.

"Damn…" Pyrrha cursed under her breath, a hole was torn in her skirt. Okay, not a big deal, she wore stockings anyway so it wasn't a problem. This was clean anyway, so she passed it to Nora with the biggest smile she could manage. Nora didn't smile back oddly enough her eyebrows drew up in what could only be mounting confusion. Pyrrha decided to pretend that she'd never seen that. If she didn't see it, she didn't need to acknowledge it.

Like how Jaune refused to see any of her good-natured attempts, refused to see her trying, refused to acknowledge. Yes, just like him. He deserved to be angry, right? Yes, yes he did. And she was fine with that, she truly was.

And you know what else she was happy with? Her relationship with him never being fixed. And to think had I never acted like I had, Jaune and I might be together now. Happy. Mere missed opportunities. At the time it felt like the world was being unfair, keeping her from having the first thing she'd wanted in a long time. Why had Jaune never told her back then? Why did how close they'd been suddenly make perfect sense? How they slept together, held hands, breathed each others' breaths. How stupid had she been? She should have kissed him a long time ago, and none of this would have happened.

Right?

Regardless of if they were together, the fight for the tournament was a different thing entirely. They still would have fought, they still would have argued… they'd probably still end up here. Was that destiny or mere coincidence?

But why did any of that matter? Who cared? Jaune sure didn't, so why should she? She was asking herself that so much now that she felt like they weren't words anymore. But it was all she could ask while she put her feelings into rubbing her shirt against her stockings. The stain wasn't coming out. So she had to scrub harder, as hard as possible.

It went without saying that her best chance of making Jaune stop loving her had passed. If she couldn't beat it out of him, and she'd ripped his heart to shreds so bad that it still affected him, then nothing else could be done. Jaune probably knew that too—did he truly expect Pyrrha to make him fall out of love? Of course not.

The cold truth was that Jaune had said it because he knew it'd hurt her. That it would rip her apart as she had done to him. We will never, ever, be the same again. Be it platonic or otherwise. I will never accept you, I will never forgive you.

And that was how it had to be. Why fight anymore? Why try? Frankly, she gave up. And so did her stocking as a long tear suddenly burst through it. Pyrrha stared at it dumbly. Then something pooled in her stomach and she let it out before she could stop herself. "God damn it!"

The others were looking at her now, but she didn't care. She'd taken that single traitorous stocking and was pulling it apart. Stupid thing. Stupid tears, stupid cleaning, stupid everything! When she'd finally reduced it to shreds, she threw the pieces wherever she could. In the water, up on the cliff, in the trees, huffing and puffing all the way. Then she stomped out of the water, embarrassed that she was little more than a naked girl throwing a temper tantrum, and stormed off toward the trees. If people called after her, she didn't hear.

She dropped flat on her ass, tailbone crying out, but she didn't care. She drew up her knees, clutched them tight to her chest, and buried her face between her knees. She wanted to be alone for a long time, days, forever even. Unfortunately, Nora had only given her a few minutes.

"Whoa there, thunder thighs. Hold back the storm." The redhead said, coming up to her.

"Leave me alone, Nora," Pyrrha said, but since it was muffled between her legs, she doubted it was coherent.

"Sheesh, you are in a sour mood." A warm shoulder was touching her now, damn it. "Wanna talk about it?"

Pyrrha refused to answer.

"If you don't tell me, I'll twist your nipple."

Pyrrha stood her ground. Or sat on it. Potato potato.

"Hey, look! Jaune's penis!"

"Nora!" Pyrrha snapped and pushed Nora away, so weak in fact that Nora only doubled over in laughter. As angry as Pyrrha was, as she wanted to be, she couldn't let it out on Nora. Of anyone, she was the least deserving. But now even her sour, emotional outburst was nothing but a laughingstock even if it was only Nora laughing. Eventually, she settled down, the forest had grown quiet again, and that warm shoulder was nudging Pyrrha again. "Gonna talk about it?" Nora asked.

Pyrrha closed her eyes. "Not really in the mood to talk. Sorry."

"I get it. No talking." Nora zipped her lips. Pyrrha didn't doubt that she probably had a guess at what was bothering her, but didn't think too much more on the matter.

Maybe this was a sign to let things go, to just, let them be as they were. Her psychologist was wrong, there was no rebuilding if there was no more foundation. That bridge was gone. And Jaune had made it crystal clear that it would never be rebuilt. "Jaune hates me."

Nora looked at her, then nodded. "Yeah, absolutely despises you."

"You know?"

"The thing about love and hate is that they're obvious. Jaune always tenses up when you're near him, he seems more afraid, like he's getting ready to fight. He's scared of you." Nora said, "I thought at first that maybe he just wasn't used to you. But…"

Somehow that felt worse. "I just don't know what to do anymore. Should I just give up?"

"Hate isn't the opposite of love. They both need passion to fuel them. If Jaune was indifferent to you, if he'd given up on you, I think the hope would be fully lost. Right?"

"But I just can't take it anymore. I'm tired of fighting for him," Pyrrha muttered, "And just… not being compensated for it. He thinks I'm asking for a mile when all I want is an inch. Is that too fucking much to ask?"

Nora's eyes widened, and Pyrrha wished she hadn't said what she said. It wasn't often she used words like that, but it was nothing if not a clear indicator of her mood. "Sorry for that," she said.

"No, you're good." Nora scooted closer, "You can't climb that cliff alone. He should give you a hand once in a while."

"But it's because I hurt him. Because of what I did to him. Maybe I don't deserve it."

"When did you decide that? Why are you treating him like he's your god or something? Jaune has his points…" Nora tapped the center of Pyrrha's chest. "But your feelings matter too. He shouldn't be being unfair to you when you're trying, don't you think?"

Yes! "I don't know…" Pyrrha wanted to agree with her so badly but didn't want to seem entitled or selfish. Jaune was hurt yes, and maybe she couldn't be forgiven, but he didn't need to give her false hopes. Didn't have to give her the chance to try. "Then what do I do, Nora? Nothing I do is working."

"That might be the problem. Stop trying."

"You mean… stop trying to fix the problem?"

Nora nodded. "Let it stew a while. Like, you don't put hot soup in the fridge to cool it down. You have to let it cool down itself before you put it away. Let Jaune come to you, focus on yourself, that's all we really can do anyway."

"But he's my partner."

"And not your husband, despite your best efforts. Jaune should be the one to approach you, after all, you tried and it didn't work."

"And what if he never approaches me? What if I'm waiting forever?"

Nora cupped her face, eyes hard and serious. "If you wait for him forever, you'll never move on. He'll either approach you and you'll patch things out, or you'll realize you're done waiting for him and move on yourself."

Pyrrha blinked. It sounded so simple, so elementary. But did Nora even realize what she was saying? "But isn't that a little selfish?"

"Welcome to being a normal human being," Nora said, "Besides, Jauney still has everyone else, and we'll knock some lovin' into him. Maybe what you need to do is wait. This is stressing you out more than it should be, and I think we've all had enough of that for a while."

Pyrrha had to admit, the appeal was there. Would it get to that point that she was done with Jaune? That she stopped caring about his forgiveness?

If they got out of this forest, how easy would it be to transfer to Haven? Find a new team? Not exactly a new start, but perhaps a better one. Near Arslan, who had forgiven her, who loved her again. With her and Nadir and Reese and everyone else, things would still be good. She could still see and talk to Ren and Nora even if she couldn't be on the team anymore, right?

Jaune would be happy with that, she assumed. Maybe she'd be happy too, or could convince herself to be happy. It wasn't at all what she wanted. How could it be? In a perfect world, everything would be made right and they could be friends again. Maybe something more.

But if the Invincible Girl wasn't perfect, then it made sense that the world wasn't either. Neither Jaune nor she were the same people anymore, and she wondered why that wasn't obvious to her up to now.

"I suppose I have no better choice than to try that." Pyrrha ran her hand through her hair, trying to ward off the headache. She'd hold out for Jaune for just a little longer, but not forever. It couldn't just be her that wanted things to be better.

He had to want it, too.

"Here's fine," Jaune grunted as Ren helped him down on the grass. Damn body. He could run on his semblance for days if he pushed himself, but the recovery process was the biggest pain in the ass imaginable. He felt like a stick, easily broken, and in pain all the time. His back in particular felt like it was on fire.

But the water helped, at least a little.

Ren settled himself next to him, and they got to cleaning their clothes right away. The girls had gotten done hours ago, and their clothes hung in the vine lines above their heads. Jaune rubbed his shirt together, hands splashing in the water, which had grown cooler now that the sun was beginning to set.

He didn't say anything to Ren, and nor did Ren to him. Every time he saw him now, he thought about when his emotions had gotten the better of him. Even if he now knew that the Watchers had caused it, even if he did know it wasn't completely his fault. It had still happened. He'd come so incredibly close to killing his friend. What kind of monster was he? How could he ever look Ren in the eyes again?

So he'd opted not to say anything, and did his best to keep to himself. So that's what he did, focused on his clothes, let himself be distracted by nothing. "O-ow…" he grunted.

"Are you okay?" Ren said, reaching for him, dropping his pants in the spring.

"I'm good. Fine." Jaune answered quickly, almost jerking away. Ren's shoulders sagged and he nodded, looking very much like he hadn't wanted to. He was back to scrubbing his clothes again.

The sun continued to seat, the sky growing darker in its cold wake. The forest brimmed with chirps and quiet rustling from the passing wind. At times, Jaune would hear a cough from his only male companion, perhaps a sneeze too. A clearing of the throat and Jaune's heart would leap like a grasshopper, only to find that Ren had not been working up the will to say something, but rather just to cough up some phlegm. Then he'd mentally kick himself, wondering why he'd been hoping on such a thing. Stupid. He was stupid.

Then Ren was hissing, rubbing at the scars on his arms. Like dozens of blades had cut into him, or a giant bear trap had been closed around him. Looked a lot like Jaune's own scars. "Are you still in pain?"

"A little. Not too much, not as much as you." Ren said, trying to smile a little. It didn't last.

"I'm not in pain." A lie even a deaf man could call bullshit on. But Ren didn't try to argue it, instead of nodding and going back to his work. Silence once again. Splashing water, distant forest ambiance, time slipping away both quickly and slowly at the same time. Jaune almost wanted to get up and walk away, to just be done with today. Things were easier when he could move freely, leave the group. He almost did.

"I love you."

Did… Did Ren say that?

Couldn't have been anyone else, right? Ren hadn't looked up, but his face said it all. He looked harrowed like he'd seen hell and his body returned, but not his mind. "I didn't act like I did, and I should've been better. But I mean it, Jaune. I love you. You never stopped being my…, my brother."

Jaune swallowed, stared at him. His eyes had grown warm. His hands were on his knees now, and he'd squeezed his fingers so tight that they might break the skin. "I never meant to hurt you or Nora. I'm sorry, Ren, I'm sorry…"

"Stop." Ren was looking at him now. Straight and true, uncompromising. "It's in the past, behind us. Right?"

Jaune nodded.

"Then, please don't cry. Or I might start to, and if you think Nora has an ugly cry, then I might leave you with nightmares." Ren had scooted closer. Jaune didn't want him near, it only made it harder to hold back, harder to keep it in. All he wanted to do was apologize, to take everything back, and be honest with Ren from the get-go. "Don't cry. It's okay. You're okay."

"I'm not okay, Ren," Jaune said, on the verge of blubbering. Sniveling like a punished toddler. "I'm trapped. I've been trapped even before we got stuck here. I'm losing myself… I don't know who I am anymore."

"You know who you are, Jaune." Ren's arms had wrapped around him. Jaune should have pulled away, but he was warm and he wanted someone to hold on to. There had been so little of it for so long.

"I don't. I don't." Jaune wept, clutching him back. His voice cracked and he hated it, hated how he craved to be close to someone. Ren only held him tighter, somehow calm through it all. A pillar of strength where Jaune thought he'd never find it. He could feel his scars now too, the ones all over Ren's back and how his fingers dug into the grooves. How Ren's fingers dug into the ones on his own back. "What am I supposed to do? I can't forgive Pyrrha, I can't even forgive myself. I can't do it anymore, Ren. I can't…"

"You're going to be okay, Jaune. I promise."

"I won't."

"You will. You will be okay."

And Jaune continued to deny it, not believing him for even a second. But still, Ren said it, said it firmly and without compromise. So much so that Jaune had to stop disagreeing with him. Maybe because his voice had gotten so incoherent that he was sobbing in his brother's shoulder.

Or maybe because he desperately wanted to believe him.

The sheer divide of the last chapter was about what I expected, and the kind of reaction I love. Going the vanilla route with romance is kinda boring, so I want to see how I can do something more unique. Naturally, nothing is confirmed since their relationship can go either way, but that's the great thing about it in my opinion. Very unpredictable.

But now that Jaune has exposed the truth, what will the others do with this new knowledge? The new questions being raised?

Ren and Jaune finally reconnect. Is our boy finally starting to heal? Or will he submit to everlasting DARKNESS?

Man, I don't know. I don't write this shit.

Oh wait…

ISA