Here we are, moving towards the end, and we've suddenly got a cover for the fic, lol. Thanks to Z-ComiX for that. Much like Professor Arc, when this fic ends there will be a gap of a week without a Tuesday upload, which gives me a chance to plot and plan ahead on the fic that will replace this one. More details when this actually ends.

Cover Art: Z-ComiX

Chapter 32

Yang fled.

Jaune gave chase.

There were no thoughts that crossed his mind when she ran, only a deep horror and a sense of loss. He had to find her. He had to explain. If he didn't, then she'd never forgive him. Everything would be over. Nina might have shouted something, but he didn't hear it. He pushed off and dashed for where she'd been.

Yang was ahead and around the corner. She stopped in a crossroads between four corridors, and darted to the left. His feet echoed on the ground as he followed, still topless and dressed in little more than tight black trousers and his shoes.

A dancer came out of a nearby changing room and slammed into Yang. She recovered quickly, twisting and knocking the guy aside and to the floor. Jaune hopped over him without breaking stride, ignorant of the startled cry from below. His eyes were focused on Yang. She was all he saw, even as she burst through a door and into the main VIP room.

The performance on the stage ground to a halt as the hooded girl came barrelling out of the private rooms. A hundred or so faces turned towards them, and many widened as Jaune crashed out behind her, naked from the waist up and looking just as dishevelled. Did any of them recognise him from the clothes he was wearing? Did they now know who he was? That thought once horrified him, but now he couldn't care less.

He had to catch her.

Yang hopped onto a table and used it as a stepping stone to jump over a couch filled with women. They shrieked in panic, even as drink and glass spilled and shattered on the floor. He tried to follow, but the women stood up and started to complain, so he had to push his way through them, shouting apologies as he knocked one back down onto the seat.

Staff were running out to try and stop them now. Simon dared to stand in Yang's way but was knocked aside, and then knocked down entirely as Jaune crashed into him. "Sorry," he yelled, pushing Simon down as he stood up himself, stumbling down the corridor. Ahead of him, Yang took the steps two at a time, one hand on the railing as she practically flew down the staircase.

"Yang! Please, just give me a second!"

She glanced back, but he couldn't make out her expression. She shook her head and looked ahead once more, descending out of view. With a growl, Jaune charged after her. He reached the top of the stairs and didn't bother to wait. With a wince and a prayer, he jumped down the entire thing, clearing twenty or more steps in one mighty leap. He caught Yang's eyes as she reached the bottom, but she darted into the crowds, right as a group of men laughed and started up the staircase.

Jaune's body slammed into them. Two were born down, used to break his fall as they hit the floor in a shower of alcohol. A third yelled out in shock, while another quickly came to the conclusion his friends were under attack and tried to slam a bottle into Jaune's head. He caught it on one arm, whispered an apology, and then swept the man's legs out from under him. He staggered out of the mess, looking left and right to try and see where Yang went. Hundreds of people stared back – none quite sure what to do about the fight that had both started and ended before they could really process it.

"JAUNE!" Reg roared from the bar. "What the fuck do you think you're doing!?"

"No time!" he shouted back, pushing through the people in the club.

There was no time to be gentle. He barrelled through the crowds like the building was on fire, pushing some out of the way, even as others screamed in shock and made way by themselves. Angry words, spilled drink and the occasional blow were his only rewards, but he ignored them all, intent on the vague direction he'd seen Yang run. She could only be headed for the exit. Where else could she go? By the time he'd pushed through the worst of the customers, he was sticky with drink all over his chest and several people had been pushed around or down behind. The entire bottom floor of the Golden Oyster was in pandemonium and Reg's voice could be heard furiously over it. He caught sight of Yang headed towards the doors. With bouncers streaming in to try and deal with the chaos, none stood in her path. She was going back to Beacon. He could meet her there. It wasn't like they'd never see each other again, and she wouldn't be able to run if he approached her in class. There were so many ways to do this that didn't involve running through the streets after her.

A part of him knew it would be a mistake to let her go. He knew that if she walked out that door and he didn't follow, he'd never have the chance to get her back. That even if they met again in Beacon, it wouldn't be in the same way. That he would have missed this one, final chance. He growled and pushed through the bouncers, even as some called his name and yelled for him to stop. He must have seemed insane to them. Maybe he was.

He felt it.

It was raining when he got outside. The cool air hit him like a mallet, and the sound of it splashing on the pavement was everywhere. He could hear something else splashing to his left. It was hard to see through the mist, but a figure was moving further away and he had to trust it was her. His heart hammered in his chest as he chased after her, feet pounding against stone and sending spray up into the air. The rain that fell on him evaporated quickly, his body hot from exertion as he panted for breath.

Yang took a left, down some street, he had no idea where. He knew Vale like the back of his hand, but right now could see nothing other than her. He followed, dodging past pedestrians who looked at a topless man in the rain with wide eyes.

"Yang!" he yelled. "Please wait!"

She didn't stop. Whether she could even hear him, he didn't know, but whatever the case, her pace only seemed to increase.

"Damn it," he growled, forcing his agonised muscles to push harder. He didn't even stop for the roads she crossed. Just the briefest of glances to make sure he wasn't about to instantly die, and then it was him dodging through traffic. Horns honked and people yelled. His hands slammed down on a car bonnet that came to a stop less than an inch away from him.

Bright lights flared in his eyes, distorting the driver from view, but he could hear the angry words easily.

"Sorry!" he replied, waving both hands but giving up a second later. He dashed to the side, paused to let a car past, then vaulted over the front of one parked at the side of the road. He landed clumsily, slipping in a puddle. One hand slapped against the pavement to keep him up, and his wrist flared in agony. Ignore it, he told himself. You can't lose her!

Yang was fast. She was fast and strong, one of the best in their year. Normally, there would have been no way for him to keep up, let alone close the distance. Fear gave him energy, however. It gave him energy and the ability to ignore his body crying out for rest.

They sprinted down streets which became emptier and emptier. Long after his stamina had gone. Long after his body had found its second, third and fourth wind. Through sheer determination alone, he forced the gap between them to close. Just a little more. He gritted his teeth and pushed his legs harder. His breath came out in sharp gusts of hot air. He was close. He was so close he could almost reach out and touch her. Their feet hit the puddles at the same time, their pace synchronised. His legs were longer, however, and he used that to his advantage, lunging forward, hand outstretched, in one desperate attempt to reach her. He managed to snag her wrist.

It was a mistake.

Yang turned, her hood falling back as hair like gold spilled out into the night air. She pivoted on one foot. Her eyes flashed red. With a twist, she tore her hand from his grip, and then powered the other into his face.

Agony screamed through his nose. His back slammed into the nearest wall and spots danced before his vision. Before he could right himself, two hands gripped his shoulders and pushed him against the brickwork. Yang's face came into his vision, and even through the rain he could see the tears in her eyes. He could also see the fury, the hate, the betrayal. All of those things he deserved so much, she wore in one confusing display of broken emotion.

"How could you?" she cried, shaking him. "How could you!?"

His mind was blank. Through it all, he'd only thought of catching her – of making things better. No excuses had come to his mind, no explanations and no reasons. As she glared at him with anger and hurt, he could only stare back, mouth open.

There was nothing he could say.

How could he answer that? How could he explain himself? How could he make this better?

"Answer me!"

"I… can't…"

It wasn't what she wanted. Yang yelled something that couldn't be understood and slammed him back against the wall. He had a feeling she'd have liked to hold him by his collar, but he didn't have one. "You lied to me," she accused instead. "You lied to me!"

"I did. I know…"

"You made me think you were my friend. You convinced me I could tell you things – things I never wanted anyone else to know." Yang's eyes widened, and then narrowed to slits. "This is how you knew about Blake, isn't it? This is how you knew about my feelings for you!"

"Yes…"

Yang's eyes clenched shut. "All those times I was trying to hide my feelings, when I was trying to preserve our friendship. All that pain… and you knew?"

"Y-Yes…"

"DAMN YOU!"

Her fist caught him in the cheek. His head rocked back, banging into the wall, but his aura flared to mute the damage. He hated it for that. If only she could have really hurt him, he might have felt better – but now it felt like he'd cheated her of even that. She struck him in the stomach and he bent double, but he made no effort to defend himself.

He deserved all this and more. So much more.

"Damn you, damn you, damn you!" she cried. Her fists rained down, but didn't do any real damage. Yang herself wasn't in the right mind, and the blows were clumsy at best. Most bounced off his muscles.

They didn't need to do anything else. Each was a blow directly to his heart.

"You lied to me. You made me think you were my friend. You took advantage of me. You used the secrets I told you against me!" She pushed back. "You just stood there and lied. You stood there and watched me make a fool of myself. Why!?"

"I…"

"Was it funny!? Did you do it for your own amusement?"

Jaune's eyes widened. "NO!" he yelled. "Yang, no. I'd never-"

"Then why!?"

"I… I was afraid."

"Afraid of what!?"

"That everyone would find out the truth. That people would look at me differently."

"That I'd tell on you?" Yang's laughter was bitter as she pushed herself away. "That's bullshit. Even if I'd been the worst of scum, I wouldn't have said anything because you could have told everyone else I visited a stripper. You'd have known damn well I was as trapped as you were."

"I…"

"What about once you knew me?" she challenged. "Surely, there came a point where you knew I wouldn't think different of you, let alone rat you out. What stopped you then?"

"I don't know," he said again. "I was afraid you'd hate me once you knew the truth. I was afraid things wouldn't work out. I was already too deep. I couldn't just stop."

"And you thought it would be better to just keep on lying?" she asked, voice filled with scorn. "You thought that if the lie got bigger and bigger, it would never be a problem. Is that what you thought?"

He didn't answer. Couldn't answer.

Yang's eyes widened. "No… you never intended to tell me, did you?" She stepped back. "I was never meant to find out. Not ever."

"Yang, I…"

"No." Yang pushed him back and stepped away. Her face was devoid of emotion. "I think we're done here. Unless you can give me a good reason for what you did. Unless you can tell me why you lied to me over and over, why you repeatedly told me I could trust you and that no one else would know what I told you. Unless you can tell me why you knowingly made me believe you were someone else to the point that I talked to you about you. Unless you can answer that… I'm gone."

Jaune's breath caught in his throat. Not that. Anything but that. He forced himself to stand and look her in the eye. "I was afraid of losing you," he said. "Yang, you were my first real friend, my best friend. I was terrified that if you found out the truth, you'd hate me for it. I didn't want to lose you. It wasn't that I wanted to or that I had a good reason to do this. I just… I didn't want to lose my friend."

"But it was okay for me to lose my friend?" Yang asked. She smiled, but there was no happiness in it. "No matter what happened, I was going to lose Crimson at some point. He never existed at all, did he?"

"I didn't mean to do that. I didn't mean for you to know Crimson, nor for you to become friends." He shook his head. "You're the one who kept coming back. I tried to push you away!"

"So, it's my fault? You lied, but it's my fault this all happened?"

No. Of course not. She'd come back because he'd made her, because it was his job to make people want to come back. It all came back to that. No matter what he tried, or how hard, it always came back to his past interfering with his life. "It's not your fault," he said. "That's not what I'm trying to say."

"Then what are you trying to say?"

"That this all got out of control. I didn't mean for it to end like this, Yang. You have to understand."

"Oh, I understand," she said. "I understand a lot. Everything was about you. So long as you were happy and didn't have to lose anyone, it didn't matter if someone else had to suffer. It didn't matter if I had to lose a friend or maybe even never have one in the first place." Tears streamed down her cheeks. "It wasn't ever about me, or us. It was always you!"

Yang turned away.

No.

She was walking away. Never to return. He couldn't accept it. His frame shook with panic and he surged forwards, trying to stop her, trying to make her understand. His hand landed on her shoulder and he gripped her hoodie.

She buried her fist in his stomach.

The blow was punishing. Far stronger than those before, and more than she'd ever shown him in a spar. It reminded him of just how much she held back to try and help him. This had none of that mercy and drove the air from his lungs. He fell to his knees, fighting for breath. Was this… was this really how strong she was? Was this how much distance there was between them?

"Not this time," Yang whispered. "It's over. We're over. You can be friends with Ruby, still. I won't take that away from her. Just don't talk to me again."

She turned away.

"Goodbye, Jaune."

No…

/-/

Yang kept her pace even as she walked away. She kept her face set, her eyes clenched shut, and her breathing steady. It lasted only until she turned the corner, where she broke out into a sprint. Tears, barely restrained before, finally poured from her eyes.

Everything she'd thought she'd known was a lie. Crimson wasn't real. He'd never been real. Their friendship? It had been nothing more than a lie, as had all his promises of keeping her secrets. He's told them, and straight to the person she wanted least to have them. All her fears, her moments of weakness, even the things she didn't dare admit to Ruby.

Jaune knew them all. Literally, the last person she wanted to know them – someone she'd thought she loved. Someone she had imagined actually being serious with. It explained so damned much. From how he'd helped Blake, to how he stopped all their arguments.

It also meant he'd known full well that she liked him when they'd gone out together. He'd sat there, while she agonised over whether he liked her or not. All that time, and he could have saved her the agony at any moment, but chose not to. He just… he just watched. He'd known all along, but he just watched.

How could he be so cruel?

How could she have been so stupid?

"You knew better than to look for love in a bar," she whispered. "You damn well knew! Why did you fall for it?"

No one had the answer. The night sky didn't have it. The people who looked her way didn't have it, neither did she herself. Hell, even he didn't seem capable of giving her one. It was all she could do to go home and hide under her covers – to pray that Ruby didn't notice.

And her dress? The one she'd spent so much time agonising over? She thought of it, dark black and the perfect combination of classy and risqué – all the better to blow his mind when he saw her in it. Her eyes clenched shut. She'd tear it into a million pieces.

Just like he had her heart.

/-/

He had no idea how long he stayed there on his hands and knees, as rain continued to run down his back. All he knew was that he stared at the growing puddle beneath him, hands on either side of it. Nothing made sense. How it had come to this, how the words he'd wished to say hadn't come – and how many answers he could think of now. If only he'd had the time to give them. If only this could have happened in any other way.

Footsteps splashed towards him. For a moment, he dared to hope, but that was dashed when he saw a pair of polished shoes. A coat fell over him, hiding his bare back from view and providing just a little warmth. It didn't do much for how he felt inside. Brian stood beside him, in a white t-shirt with his arms bare. He took a long drag of a cigarette, then sighed at the cold night. Rainwater ran down his bald head and turned his shirt almost see-through.

Despite that, he didn't move. He felt empty... spent.

"Isn't it your anniversary?" he rasped.

"I figured this might be more important. Come on. Get up." Brian reached down and tugged at his arm. Although Jaune didn't want to, he was forced to accept being pulled back onto his feet. He kept his eyes down, even as the older man adjusted the coat over him. "You caused quite the stir back there. Let's just say a lot of shit went down. You might not want to return tonight. Reg is furious."

He tried to respond. The words caught in his throat. What was he supposed to do now? Return to Beacon? Yang might have said she'd let him be friends with Ruby still, but... but that wasn't enough. He wanted her back. He didn't want to lose her. If he couldn't have Yang, then what was the point of returning? It would just be more drama for his team. Hadn't he caused them enough pain? He'd certainly caused Yang enough.

He felt like he should have been crying, but nothing would come out. That just made him feel worse.

Brian noticed, and shook his head. "Damn it, Jaune. Nina warned you. She said you shouldn't- No. I won't say it." He flicked his cigarette away, a glowing red ember in the dark. "Not like it helps to rub in what you did wrong. You don't need that. I've got a spare couch you can sleep on tonight. I've a feeling you don't want to go back to Beacon."

Jaune shrugged limply. He felt too tired to argue. Too exhausted to do anything, really. He was just relieved he wouldn't need to sleep on the streets again. "Thank you," he whispered.

Brian watched him carefully. The older man sighed.

"Actually, change of plans. You and I are going out for a drink, and you're going to listen to me as I impart some of my old man wisdom on you. Don't argue," he snapped when Jaune opened his mouth to do just that. "I'm paying, and right now, you need it."

"The advice or the booze?"

Brian wrapped an arm around his shoulder. He even reached over to button up Jaune's coat, shielding him from the elements. When he was done, he nudged his shoulder against Jaune's to herd him into movement. A small, sad smile slipped onto his face.

"Both," he said. "I think you need both right now."

Today has been a… difficult day for me. No detail here because it's personal, but this chapter is short for both that reason, and because I'm trying to learn from mistakes made in other fics. This is the black moment, as I'm sure many could figure out. To extend it any longer would kind of take away from that fact.

I can't go into what is to come next, because it would detract from this. As such, I felt the chapter was just better ended here than dragged on in search of hitting a word quota. It's short, I know.

Next Chapter: 11th July

P a treon . com (slash) Coeur