Another day, another installment!

I don't remember when I started writing this chapter, it feels like so long ago. Or maybe that's just college. Or other things that require a couch and a therapist to work out. Or... maybe it's been a long time. I'm rambling. What.

I need sleep.

Beta: Maxaro. He's becoming more popular than me. I'm so proud of him, like a doting parent.


In a simple world, pain plus time equals healing.

Unfortunately, Pyrrha was a huntress, and in that particular field, there was simply no time for moping about.

As such, the next few weeks consisted of several different missions in her schedule, all of which were more her speed as opposed to the prior diplomatic mission she'd been sent on. Most of these missions were mainly mindless combat and clearing out of Grimm in congested areas, which in and of itself was a sort of therapeutic process for Pyrrha.

She couldn't really describe it, but there was just something about the rhythmic hacking and slashing that calmed her bones and just generally kept her mind off of things.

At the same time, the redhead couldn't help but feel some semblance of self-contempt for the increasingly apparent habit of avoiding her problems that until recently hadn't exactly been a bad habit that she was privy to sink into.

And yet here she was, doing just that.

Speaking of "here"… the only reason her mind did happen to delve into such thoughts was because, for once, she was home in her own bed, wide awake.

And yes, this was the time that Pyrrha had promised to herself to begin the healing process in earnest.

But as anyone would tell you… healing is not quite as easy as the simplicity of the word implied. As much as she tried telling herself that it was pointless to think about how she could've repaired relations between her and Jaune, her toxic thoughts continued to point their tiny little pitchforks and daggers and repeatedly stab the brain from whence they came.

It was painful and depressing and awful. But she knew she was simply going to have to live with it for the time being until the wounds finally closed up. She was raised to be tough, and this was no different. Pyrrha was a fighter, after all.

The alarm buzzed.

Pyrrha jumped at the noise, blinking rapidly. Frantically she slammed a fist down onto the device that had disturbed her from her reverie in an attempt to silence its dreadful squawking.

Thankfully, her alertness wasn't clouded by sleep, and the huntress managed to shut off the alarm clock without too much trouble.

It wasn't until afterwards that she realized light had been shining through the blinds of her bedroom window, signaling that morning had indeed come. This took Pyrrha off guard more than it probably should have; was it really morning already? She didn't remember falling asleep, but she must have since it only seemed like she'd been lying in bed for an hour after she had sought refuge under her sheets.

Or perhaps fatigue from the missions as well as her already stressed mind had truly warped her sense of time to such an absurd degree.

Still… Pyrrha was hard pressed to get out of bed. The house simply didn't feel like home – certainly not with the empty half of said house serving as a constant reminder of what was clearly not there anymore.

But that was okay. It was Friday morning, and for the most part, she was free today, and didn't have to worry about embarking on her next mission until the following Tuesday. In fact, the only thing she had to worry about later today was that –

Oh.

She had a date tonight.


Which was precisely where she found herself now.

Just like that, the day that she had spent fretting over her date had flown by much faster than she would have liked, and suddenly she was there, fidgeting in a somewhat uncomfortable seat in a restaurant of much higher class than she'd usually frequent.

Although perhaps it wasn't the chair itself that was uncomfortable.

Pyrrha inhaled deeply.

She had dressed simply for the date; her cocktail dress was dark and subtle, her heels were stylish yet comfy, and her look was completed with simple makeup, save for the light green wing tips. Her hair, as per usual, was tied up in a long flowing ponytail.

Not quite sure what to do with her hands, she delicately picked up an intricate butter knife laid out on her left and began to run her fingers down its engravings.

This must be absurdly expensive, she mused. Definitely not something I'd be willing to spend money on.

Taking a fleeting glance at the surrounding diners, Pyrrha wondered if she had underdressed for the occasion. But at the same time, she didn't feel like she was here to impress anyone, either.

Oh right. Her date.

The redhead pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned.

This was ridiculous.

She was Pyrrha Nikos, respected by friends and colleagues alike. She didn't need to go on dates to feel validated as a person! She was a strong woman who didn't require the company of men, and she could do as she damn well pleased. Who gave a rat's ass if she was or wasn't in a steady relationship with anybody? If there were any naysayers who had anything demeaning to say about how she lived her life, then they ought to go shove a fire dust crystal up their –

"Excuse me, are you Pyrrha Nikos?"

"GUAAAHHH!" was the guttural sound that forced itself out of the huntress's throat. Her chair leaned back a little too far, and only the most graceful kind of flailing kept Pyrrha from tipping backward.

The green-eyed man jumped back. "Holy - you okay?"

At this point, the huntress realized that the surrounding patrons had turned towards them, most of whom stared at her in disdain out of being disturbed from their meals.

Time to remedy the situation, and fast.

"Y-yes, I'm fine! Sorry about that, my mind was elsewhere and you sort of startled me a bit. Please, take a seat. You must be the date Ren set me up with!" Flustered, she motioned awkwardly with a hand towards the seat across from her as she mentally began to gather her wits.

The man smirked roguishly, and he spoke in a voice as smooth as silk. "Yeah, that would be me! And I should be the one apologizing, I kind of snuck up you there." He pulled out a chair but paused slightly and stared at her outstretched hand. "Is your… hand okay?"

"Hmm?" Pyrrha glanced at her the hand in question. In the midst of her surprise, the butter knife she'd been playing with had stuck to her palm and at this point had been jaggedly crushed at four points. Both her hand and the knife (if you could still call it that) were encased in glow of black aura.

"Dammit…" she muttered, biting her lip. "That's going to be expensive."

With a sigh, she dropped the knife onto the table and mentally turned off her Semblance.

"Again, sorry about that. I'm a bit of a nervous wreck today, I guess…" She blinked as she examined the man's face for the first time that evening.

Something about him seemed quite familiar. Over a ruffled white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, the man wore a brown leather waistcoat that ended longer on his right than the left. Black slacks rested upon brown high-top loafers, and his straight brown hair was pulled back into a small ponytail, topped with a rather wide-brimmed hat sporting a light green feather off the side.

Suddenly realizing just how long she had been staring, Pyrrha cleared her throat. "I believe I know you from somewhere…"

The man flashed her a sparkling grin as he sat down, taking off his hat and setting it to the side. "Hey, you remember me. I was actually one of the finalists along with you at the Vytal Festival Tournament while we were both first years. My name is D'Artagnan Kingfisher." He extended a hand charmingly. "It's a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance."

Pyrrha smiled back and shook his hand firmly, relaxing a bit at the familiarity. "Likewise."

D'Artagnan's grin grew brighter, seemingly approving of her handshake.

The atmosphere of the restaurant gradually returned to its somewhat stuffy and elegant calmness, and the two quietly perused their respective menus, exchanging some small talk on the topic of recommendations of food and drink. After a few minutes, a waiter came by to take their orders, and afterwards both huntsmen returned to even more small talk.

"I have to say, you were quite the talk of the town – or at least my school – when we rolled by for the Vytal Festival," hummed D'Artagnan, hands clasped together. "We all knew you as the four-year Mistral Regional champ, so we were all pretty star struck to compete with you."

"O-oh." Pyrrha laughed woodenly, looking away. The sudden change of subject to her previous stardom was off-putting, especially since, of course, it wasn't really a subject she was fond of. "I… I'm flattered."

Unaware of his date's discomfort, the huntsman continued. "I just have to wonder, with all that glory and fame, what does a person like you end up doing?"

"B-being a huntress, of course!"

Pyrrha winced. Maybe that was a little too snappy.

"Sorry," she apologized. "I didn't mean to be brisk, but I did go to a huntsmen's school, after all. It's the profession I was trained for. Sorry if I sounded rude."

"Oh… right. That was a stupid question." D'Artagnan seemed somewhat deflated at the response.

"S-so how do you know Ren?" Pyrrha interjected quickly, already wary of the oncoming awkward moment.

Her date brightened once again – almost literally, in fact, as the sparkle returned to his eye. "Well, I actually worked with Ren on a couple missions in the field. In fact, this last mission we went on…"

The conversation continued easily enough, with Pyrrha letting D'Artagnan take the lead for most of the talking. It wasn't like she didn't have anything to say; just with the added pressure of having her first date in what seemed like forever as well as being a perfectionist, the redhead was doing everything in her power not to make a single misstep.

Although that might have been a lost cause at this point.

Regardless of whatever missteps had already come and gone, it was still her mountain to climb, and she was terrified of falling off.

"So, I found myself having to try my damnednest to start a fire in the middle of nowhere with rain just pouring down on us – I mean, pouring." The brown-haired huntsman shuddered, as if reliving the event. "It was, bar none, the most miserable night of my entire life."

Pyrrha smiled sympathetically. "Goodness, I can't even imagine how terrible that must have been. The worst I ever had to deal with was when…" Her eyes wandered briefly across the restaurant.

From across the restaurant, a tuft of unkempt blonde hair caught her eye.

"… Oh no."

D'Artagnan blinked. "Um, Pyrrha? Everything okay?"

The redhead tried to shrink down in her chair. "Oh, nothing, I just thought I saw my –"

The tuft of blonde hair turned, and piercing blue eyes met her own.

"Oh fu- I think we just made eye contact." Panicking, Pyrrha tried to hunch over even more than looked healthy.

"Who?"

"My hus- my ex. I don't know if he noticed – oh no, he's walking over. Why is he walking over? What is he trying to do? Oh dust, I'm not ready to talk to him right now – hey, do you want to leave?" At this point, she was practically resting her whole upper body prone across the table.

"W-what?" D'Artagnan stuttered, utterly confused. "We haven't even gotten our meals yet!"

"I'm sorry, that was a stupid question, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Pyrrha flinched. Too many apologies. "Listen, I'll just pretend to go to the restroom for a bit and maybe he'll get the message and – too late, he's here!"

And with that her horizontal upper body instantly shot straight back up. "Hiiiiiii Jaune, how are you it's been so looooooooooong!"

Fuck.

The ever-friendly smile on Jaune's face faltered, if only slightly. "… Hey. Didn't we just talk like… a week ago?"

"Did we…? I-I suppose we… we did!" She was absolutely flustered. "It… was nice catching up with you!"

"… Yeah." Still confused at Pyrrha's odd mannerisms, Jaune decided to focus his attention on the even more confused date. "I saw you two over here, so I thought I'd just say hi. I'm Jaune."

Pyrrha visibly started in her seat. "Oh! This is Dar…" Oh no. Did I forget his name? "Dart…" Furthermore, why am I still talking? This is ridiculous. What am I doing? "… Darterian…?"

The brown-haired huntsman, for the first time that night, looked less than impressed, and he extended a hand out to Jaune. "I'm D'Artagnan. Nice to meet you, Jaune."

Jaune grinned and returned the handshake. "Same."

For some reason, Pyrrha's mouth continued to move. "So, Dart… um… D'Artagnan and I are… well, eating out here, for… dinner. Because we're… on a date! We're on a date…" Somehow, everything that came out of her mouth just sounded worse by the second. "Um… what are you doing here?"

"Oh me?" Jaune pointed a thumb over his shoulder. "I decided to treat Ruby out to dinner. She's been working hard lately, so I thought she could use something like this."

Pyrrha cocked her head in the direction Jaune was pointing and spotted a very wide-eyed Ruby watching the exchange from her table. When their eyes inevitably met, Ruby froze like a deer in headlights, and she nervously lifted a chrome hand to wave at the other redhead before abruptly turning her eyes on the lit candle in the middle of her table.

It was like she was… scared of Pyrrha, and the huntress had to wonder if she had accidently glared down the younger woman.

"Hey, weren't you one of the finalists at the Vytal Festival Tournament all those years ago?" Jaune's voice swiftly brought the redhead's attention back to her own table.

"Actually, I was!" D'Artagnan beamed at the praise. "Third place overall, baby. Not too shabby, if I do say so myself."

"Oh, for sure," agreed Jaune. "Anyway, I won't waste your time anymore. It was nice meeting you, though."

The brown-haired hunter stuck out a hand and shook Jaune's hand once more. "You too!"

Jaune smiled, then turned to Pyrrha. "It was good seeing you again, Pyrrha. We should… grab coffee sometime. If you want, y'know."

The huntress forced a smile. "Y-yeah. Good seeing you too."

Somehow she didn't see herself taking up that offer for coffee anytime soon.

Or ever.

At least not now.

As Jaune walked off, D'Artagnan crossed his arms and sighed. "He seemed like a nice guy."

"Mm-hmm…"

"… So… you know you didn't have to pretend to remember my name, right?"

"… Yes. Right."

Now, when she actually did need to talk and save what sense of pride she had left, Pyrrha's mouth refused to cooperate, and she couldn't help but internally laugh at the irony.

Of course, she could only hear the laughing if she got past the internal screaming first.

Eventually their food came out, and they ate in a very uncomfortable silence.

She couldn't help but look over at Jaune's and Ruby's table after what seemed like every bite.

They looked like they were enjoying themselves.

Her eyes were drawn to Ruby's belly.

It wasn't much, but a noticeable bump had begun to form.

A knot twisted in Pyrrha's chest, and she continued to nibble at her food.

I… I should be happy for them, right?

But then why do I feel like their happiness is ripping my heart out?


Spring was beginning to grow warmer, and Pyrrha could feel the mild differences in temperature as she and D'Artagnan waited outside the restaurant for the valet to grab their respective cars. They chatted as they waited, but just barely enough to constitute an exchange of words.

Eventually, D'Artagnan's car arrived first, and he went to pay for the parking.

"H-hey! Um…" Pyrrha stammered a bit before collecting her wits. "I just want to say I'm sorry. That was probably… the worst date you've ever been on, and I know you probably don't want to see me again in any respective or… I-I mean… sheesh. Nevermind. But, I don't know, if you want to… for some reason… give it another shot at some later date, I promise, I won't be as awkward as I was tonight. I was… really out of it today... among other… things."

The brown-haired huntsman let out a long, drawn-out sigh. After a brief pause, he offered her a genuinely warm, albeit sad smile. "I'm sorry, too. But I don't think we should."

Pyrrha's shoulders slumped, and she hugged herself tightly, well aware that it wasn't actually cold. "Figures…"

"Hey, I promise I didn't mean it like that," D'Artagnan reached a hand out to grasp her bare shoulder. "I just think you should take some time. Obviously you and your ex have, or had, some history together, and I feel like you still need to do some recovering from that. In all honesty… I was engaged to someone a while ago, and when she… left, to put it plainly, it was a long time before started dating again. So don't rush things, okay?"

The redhead stared at the hand on her shoulder and was acutely aware of how much she missed the physical touch of a loved one.

Regardless, she shook the feeling and smiled. "Thank you, D'Artagnan. I think… I think I'm going to try to take your advice. This dating stuff…" She managed a light chuckle. "It's exhausting, honestly!"

"It can be. I promise, you weren't the worst one." D'Artagnan smiled. "Take care, Pyrrha."

He climbed into his car and drove off.

Minutes later, Pyrrha's car arrived as well. She paid the fee and drove home, her thoughts blurring past like the night-lit cityscape alongside the windows of her car.


Two mugs of various ales slammed upon the countertop, foam spilling over the side.

Jaune sighed. "I… kinda feel bad for leaving Ruby behind, y'know?"

Another weekend, and the blonde was beginning to find a different sort of habit emerging in his day to day life: being dragged out on random outings by his friends. This evening, particularly, found him at the local bar with the strangest of bedfellows - Yang Xiao Long.

"Don't worry so damn much," chuckled Yang, setting down her mug of hard cider after a sip. "Besides, it's not like she can drink anyway, now that you've quite literally fucked her over. Ha. Get it?" She elbowed the other blonde playfully before wincing hard. "Oh fuck, I just gave myself a really bad visual…"

Jaune almost spit out his own mouthful of pale ale and used every ounce of focus he had just to down it. "That's your fault, I had nothing to do with that," he laughed, wiping his mouth. "So, what's the big occasion? And on top of that, you didn't bring your fiancée?"

Yang let out an unabashed belch. "I mean, I just came back from the most boring of missions, dude. I needed this. And so I thought, why not you and I go out for some bevs, just us blondes, y'know? I figured I could do something nice for my future brother-in-law!"

Once again, Jaune choked on his beer.

Snickering, Yang thumped his back with her palm. "I'm kidding, of course. But you better marry the shit out of my little sister." She drank another mouthful of cider. "Blake ain't really suited to this kind of drinking, either, y'know, so she's at home. Besides, I got her a new book last week and she's just absorbed. I'm not gonna force her away from that."

She clinked her fingers upon the glass of her mug, "But yeah… I needed this."

"Yeah…" Jaune sighed, a thin, hesitant smile playing on his lips as he stared at his cup. "I think… I think I did, too. Thanks, Yang."

Yang frowned at him. "You seem down," she mused. "What's up… or… down? Fuck." She started to chug her drink at the flub.

Jaune snorted. "Am I that transparent?"

"Mmm? Mm-hmm!" The other blonde set down her mug and wiped her mouth with her forearm. "If I'm gonna be honest, you've always worn your troubles on your face. You look… stressed out."

Jaune chuckled. He felt stressed out.

"Ha… I was never good at being subtle, I guess." With his elbows upon the table, Jaune rested his chin in hands. "Well… Ruby's been pregnant for almost a month now… and I guess the whole… pregnancy thing… is starting to hit me?"

Yang raised an eyebrow. "Explain…"

"Uh, well…" Jaune rubbed his eyes. "I mean, we were so excited about the whole thing… and don't get me wrong, I still am. I'm just worried. Like… I don't know the first thing about being a parent, and up until like two weeks ago, having a kid wasn't even on my mind! And now look at me – I'm having a fucking kid. Like… holy shit."

"So… what you're saying is that you don't know what to expect when you're expecting?"

A small snicker escaped from Jaune's mouth. "Goddammit Yang, I'm trying to be serious here."

Sobering slightly, he turned to Yang, an earnest concern in the creases of his face.

"Yang, I'm the least competent person I know, and I know I wasn't exactly the best raised of people… I mean, Weiss could probably tell you how much of a dumb tool I was when we all first met. Point is, what if I… what if I'm a shit parent?"

"You know how I know you won't be a shit parent?" The blonde huntress nonchalantly continued to sip her drink.

"Yang, you don't have to try to make me feel better, I'm just rambling here –"

"Because you care." Yang turned to Jaune, a face hardened like stone. "You give a damn. You're going to actually try, because Jaune Arc might not be the best at what he does, but he tries his damnest, no matter the odds. You always have, even when you knew your ass was gonna get beat, and people have come to respect you for that."

Her fingers wrapped tightly around the handle of her mug, knuckles turning white, and her jaw clenched. "You'll be a good parent because you'll be there for your kid when he or she or whomever needs you. You won't be a… a fucking absentee parent." The last few words came out in a mumble, and Yang's eyes flashed red for the most fleeting of instances.

The professor stayed quiet for a moment. Yang's grudge against her estranged maternal figure wasn't exactly a big secret, but it was still a touchy subject for the blonde huntress, and in perspective Jaune's qualms about parenthood didn't seem quite so big.

"Hey… I'm sorry… I didn't mean to remind you about… her."

Yang shrugged. "No worries. You didn't mean it."

Jaune nodded. "Still… I think I see your point. So… thanks."

"Hey, that's what big sisters are for, right?"

Despite appearances, it was still clear to Jaune that Yang was trying to smile through her own pain.

Holding out his half-filled mug, the professor smirked. "Well, at least you don't have to worry about me leaving Ruby or the kid, because if I try I know you'll come and beat my ass six feet into the ground, am I right?"

Yang threw a sideways glance at Jaune for a moment before slowly offering him a genuine grin. "Ha! You bet your ass I will. I'll drink to that!"

Glasses clinked, ale was drank, and hence filled once and many more times that night.


Another mediocre feeling chapter, at least in my head. But, some things are less exciting than others.

I'll admit, this chapter started and stopped and started and stopped. I'm just so happy that it's done.

I haven't written next chapter yet, but it's already my favorite. You'll see why. In month. Or two. Or...

I need to shut up. Or drink. Or sleep. The moon does strange things to the mind. Apparently.

Until next time! Hopefully I'll be a little more sane then.

Afternote: Oh! Also, the character D'Artagnan? Yeah, you'll recognize him as the musketeer looking dude from the Vytal Festival Tournament finals lineup. Also known as 1 of 3 of "Erin Winn's Cute Boys."