A/N: I feel like this story is the perfect opposite of my fic What We Call Home, style-wise- when I can write that one, this one is a struggle, and vice-versa. Let me know what you think of this chapter!

Thrown to the Wind

Destinations

After a week of pining for an afterimage, enough was enough. It was Friday night- the usual gang of ne'er-do-wells had already run off into the distance. Five-Lien beer pitchers in the commons just past the amphitheatre had that effect on everyone still around every second Friday night.

She wasn't dressing up for him, Pyrrha told herself. There was no reason why she wanted to triple-check her makeup, why she wanted to ensure her clothes were cute. There was no reason she kept fussing before every reflective surface in Ren's room while waiting for Nora to throw on a dirty hoodie and mess up her hair. "It's to make you look extra-good compared to me, silly!" Nora kept insisting. "If I look real bad, then you'll look amazing! He'll have to go for you!"

It sounded ridiculous in the moment, but the thought of the blond boy looking at her again sent her stomach in knots, nervous excitement bubbling in her throat. "That… would be grand," she murmured lowly.

Ren, who (of course) was privy to the entire situation as he scribbled frantically on grid paper, merely reached up a hand and patted her comfortingly on the back. "It'll work out," he said distantly.

Pyrrha grinned. If even the quiet boy believed in her, then maybe she really did have a chance. Her suddenly-uplifted spirit fell again promptly though, as the boy's eyes remained locked onto his computer. Maybe not, after all.

The night was still surprisingly warm for having almost turned the corner into autumn. As they left, it was perfect timing that they received a lovely, practically incomprehensible message from Velvet, the sweet girl asking for some acetaminophen and some more cereal for their floormates- apparently something had gone sour at the event between Neptune, one of their other RAs, and Weiss, who had been vying for his affections ever since the smooth-talking fourth year had begun working in their building. Pyrrha merely sighed, looping an arm through Nora's as her excited friend immediately began speculating about what had happened.

It was for that very reason that she felt unsure about reaching out for the blond. What if something went wrong? She gulped. Even worse, what if something went right?

The walk felt both far longer and far shorter than she remembered. Sometime during their hunt the week before, they had missed the fact that this particular store was in a shadier part of town, and that they really shouldn't have been walking by themselves in the middle of the night. Pyrrha hurried along as she saw figures peering out of dank alleys lining main roads as they headed further into Vale, almost wishing she had taken the route through the club district instead of this quieter area. At least in the midst of clubs, bouncers and partygoers would be witnesses if trouble found them.

Thankfully, they arrived at their destination with little incident. The fan was just as loud as Pyrrha remembered, doing little to cool down sickeningly-muggy air. She briefly let her eyes wander over to the back freezers, wondering whether the ice cream within was frozen, or if they were just as ineffective as the air conditioning unit that wheezed pitifully in the corner of the store. There was not a soul in sight, other than the mop of blond that had become so familiar through its infinite reappearances in her daydreams.

Pyrrha blinked, a little disgruntled. The blond wore the same clothes underneath the same ratty apron- an ill-fitted hoodie with short sleeves, baggy jeans that seemed worse for wear, fingerless gloves that seemed pointless in the already-humid store. If his shoes had been visible from behind the counter, she'd have bet they were the same ratty sneakers, too. With his appearance, combined with the dingy room and the fact that it still smelled of urine and smoke and mistakes right outside of the entrance, she would have sworn that time had somehow stopped in the little convenience store.

But things were different, after all. Laying on the counter in front of him this time wasn't a Sudoku- instead, it was a thick comic book, the art style popping off the page even as Pyrrha's skewed angle. And, when his eyes lifted off the page at the tinkle of the bell above the store entrance when she walked in, she could see the awful bruise swelling the side of his cheek.

God, how she wanted to reach out and caress the blue-purple pain on his face. Instead, she simply nodded politely and made a beeline for the back, grabbing the cereal while Nora giggled and grabbed medicine. The orange-haired girl sidled up to her as they walked to the counter, murmuring, "Do you wanna buy him some painkillers, too? It'd be cute."

"No!" Pyrrha squeaked. "That's too much, isn't it?" But she couldn't deny how her fingers itched to grab a cold compress and some anti-inflammatory gel for him.

The boy smiled weakly when she finally approached the counter, avoiding his gaze guiltily. "It looks bad, huh?"

Her eyes shot up, and she tried to stammer out an answer, but instead, she saw a small bar of chocolate sitting on top of the cereal box. Pyrrha frowned as he scanned the cereal. "Wait, I didn't-"

"That's the brand you bought last week, right?" the boy asked.

She blinked at him. "Um… well, yes, it is." The previous chocolate bar still sat on her desk, occupying an honorary space on top of her Wi-Fi router.

"Then, it's on me. Someone needs to enjoy Friday night," he added after a moment, chuckling ruefully.

She just stared at him in shock as he quietly bagged her now-three items.

"What happened…?" she whispered.

"Have a great night."

She took her bag. "You too… Jaune," she called over her shoulder before she bolted out of the store to meet up with Nora. She didn't miss his shocked look when he heard his name from her lips.