Communion
Jaune opened his eyes. The smoke, the pain, the burning. It was gone.
Where was he?
He looked around, seeing little than featureless white, extending into the distance. The edges were unclear, the boundaries uncertain. At first, he wondered if it'd happened again, that they'd slipped worlds, but even the island had been more visceral than this. This was strangely disconnected.
Did this mean...? Could it mean...? Weiss had mentioned – later on, when such questions came up – that Jinn's telling of the story of Ozma mentioned an afterlife. Was this it? Was he dead?
It wouldn't be a surprise from what he could recall. For a moment the sensation of burning almost seemed to return. And yet he felt a grim sense of satisfaction. He'd succeeded, at least. For once he'd been able to protect those he'd cared for. He hadn't been stuck as an idle witness, or worse. A final laugh in the face of that witch, who couldn't stop him no matter how much fire she poured out upon him. He burned, but between the size of his aura and his semblance, he'd endured. Endured long enough to put an end to her, to stop her killing any more of his friends.
He was glad he was able to use his semblance for once. He hadn't been able to use it, not on anyone else. Not since... since...
He looked at his hands. They were much as they'd been before the burning. He stripped off the gloves to see the skin beneath. Little marked their surface, other than the calluses training had produced. But he knew the truth; knew these hands could never be clean.
He looked around again, seeing the empty realm, and sat down. If this was the afterlife, he'd have expected it to be more crowded. And yet Weiss hadn't been able to share any details of it: apparently Jinn had not been forthcoming. How did it work? Did the good go in one place, and the wicked in another? If so, he'd have expected to see Cinder again, and perhaps they could resume where they'd left off. Or perhaps this was empty because it was some private hell, just for him. Even Cinder hadn't done what he'd done, after all. She hadn't killed a friend.
Probably because she didn't have any, he thought with a snort. Even Emerald had seen through her in the end, even if that took longer than turning on Salem herself.
He slumped down, unable and unwilling to move any further. He'd often felt the temptation, since their fall to the island, but he'd kept pushing himself forward, desperate that he be of at least some use to his friends, that he could in some small way atone for what he'd done. Every bitter thought, every jolt of self-loathing that he'd felt since the fall of Beacon, since the loss of Pyrrha, had returned a hundredfold with... with... Penny's death.
He forced himself to mentally vocalise it, to think her name. It was the least she deserved. She didn't deserve what had happened. For him to kill her.
He buried his face in his hands, silently weeping, pouring out all the tears he'd held himself back from expressing in life, that he'd restrained simply so he could be functional.
He didn't know how long he wept; time moved strangely here. But it was amidst his sorrow that he suddenly heard his name called out, in tones he hadn't heard in a very long time.
"Jaune?"
He stood, whirling about. She stood there, as beautiful and vibrant as he remembered: green eyes, scarlet hair, and bronzed armour.
"Pyrrha, is that you?" he gasped. "This isn't some sort of trick?"
"No, Jaune, it's me," she replied, taking a step forward. Instinctually, almost without meaning to, he shrank, taking a step back.
"That can't be!" he hissed, trying to make sense of this place. "If... if I'm being punished, you can't be here too!"
"Jaune!" She took another step forward, reaching out towards him. "It's me! Please, listen to me."
Jaune forced himself to look at her, before his gaze dropped out of shame. "Pyrrha, if that's you, then do you know what I've done?! I don't deserve to even speak with you!"
"Jaune." She stepped closer, close enough now take hold of one of his tainted hands. She held it aloft, for a moment almost forgetting herself as she held it against her face, her eyes closed. Jaune could feel the warmth of her cheek. It felt reminiscent, yet different than such things felt in life. It felt like both the memory of touch, and something that transcended it.
She opened her eyes once more, and seemed to gaze deep within his soul. "Jaune, do you really think I don't know how it feels? When I'm the one who killed her too?"
-000-
They sat, side by side, in that strange place.
Pyrrha broke the silence. "Once, I longed for us to share more. But this I would have spared you, if I could."
"But you were tricked," Jaune replied. "You didn't mean to kill her. Emerald used her semblance. It wasn't your fault."
"And as much as you struck the final wound, it was Cinder who inflicted the mortal one."
"But I could have healed her, given time!"
"Time you didn't have, as Penny pointed out. In fact, if you'd been one whit slower in doing what she asked, Weiss would be dead, and Winter also. And you'd have followed soon after." Pyrrha's gaze turned downwards in sorrow. "And Cinder would have taken the Maiden powers from Penny, and without the Maiden to protect them, most of the refugees would have died. Not that you had any way to know the latter at the time, but it's still true."
"Wait," Jaune asked. "How do you know this?"
"Because I saw it Jaune. As much as the living can't see us, we're not so far from them as they suppose." She looked back up at him. "We can watch those we care for. Those we love."
He looked back at her, more tears threatening to blur his vision.
"I suppose I ought to apologise," she continued.
"Whatever for?!"
"When I sent you away," she paused and winced, "my sole concern was your safety. I wanted you to live on, to be happy. I did not see how you'd take it. And as much as I could imagine how much losing you would hurt me, I didn't imagine how much losing me would hurt you. All of you, but especially you, Jaune. When I first saw you training at night, where the others didn't notice... it broke my heart."
"Pyrrha, you couldn't have foreseen that," Jaune insisted. "I know... I know now that you had to try. It wasn't your fault I wasn't strong enough to fight alongside you."
"That's exactly what I'm talking about," she said with a weak smile. "It wasn't about strength, it was just about keeping you safe. Instead, it almost destroyed you. When you next faced Cinder..." she trailed off.
"Yeah," Jaune said, remembering how he'd lost control. He'd never done that again, for fear of getting someone else hurt. But then he'd had to hurt someone else anyway.
"It's why I arranged things in Argus," Pyrrha added.
"Arranged things?" Jaune said, puzzled.
"Did you really imagine it was sheer coincidence that an out-of-season fall leaf would blow past in the middle of winter, and lead you straight to my statue where my mother was waiting?"
"Er... yes, but I'm guessing I'm wrong?" Jaune answered.
Pyrrha playfully swatted him. "You goof. No, it wasn't coincidence!"
Jaune took her hand, pressed a kiss against the palm. It still felt different, and yet the connection was real. "Thank you. For a time... for a time, it did help. I still really missed you, but the pain ebbed. I... had no notion of moving on, but it felt like I could begin to move forward."
"And I would not have begrudged you that," Pyrrha insisted. "I'd hope there'd be room for me too, but what I wanted above all else was for you to be happy."
Jaune gave a bitter laugh. "That's the thing, though, isn't it? For a time, I felt a sense of direction, of purpose. I felt conviction about what we were doing, and felt I had a place and a role in that. And then it's like that was all a cruel joke of the cosmos, a brief glimpse of hope before it was taken away. Then the team's healer became a killer. It was at that point I knew my story wouldn't have a happy ending."
"Jaune," Pyrrha embraced him, sorrow etched on her face. With a free hand she stroked his head, attempting to comfort him.
"I tried to stay focused," he continued. "It seemed selfish to dwell on my own feelings, compared to how everyone else had suffered. But I couldn't shake it all. I just hope I did good enough to outweigh my failure."
"You did good!" Pyrrha insisted. "Much more than you realise. I'm so proud of you!"
"How can you say that?!"
"Because you did protect our friends! You came on so far, tried so hard, despite the wounds you bore. And at the end you protected them once more."
"But I killed Penny! Ruby was... Ruby was..."
"Heartbroken, I know. About that and a great many other things. But she forgave you, and forgives you now. The only one who didn't forgive you was yourself." She looked him in the eye once more. "I know our experiences are not quite the same, but I do know what I'm speaking about. Though perhaps someone else can help. She helped me."
"Who?" he asked, brow furrowed.
"Who do you think?" she asked.
An image sprung to mind, of an innocent girl with freckles and ginger hair.
"Pyrrha, no, I'm not sure I can! How can I bear to see her again?"
"How can you not? You'll see she's happy, and at peace. And I know she doesn't hold it against you, quite the opposite. We talk quite a lot, you know. We never had the chance to be friends in life, but beyond... well beyond, anything is possible."
"But can I even leave?" Jaune gestured around him. "Isn't this my afterlife? My hell?"
"Jaune, no," Pyrrha insisted. "This... this may be after life, but it's not the afterlife. It's just a place between realms. A place we cross."
"Cross to where?"
"Come and see. I'll show you," Pyrrha offered a hand towards him. "You couldn't see it because of your pain. That's why I came looking for you."
"Pyrrha." He looked away. "I'm not sure I deserve this."
"Jaune," she said again, her tone filled with love, and as he looked back, he could see her eyes urging him. "Come with me. Perhaps some of us don't get happy endings in life, but where I'm taking you, things are different. There we have all the time in the worlds. There we can have our happy ending. Please."
He looked at her hand, and then looked back at her gentle smile. Hesitantly, he began to smile too.
"Okay," he nodded, taking her hand and trusting her once more. And together they rose.
