Jaune POV... It's going to be not much in this fic... but might change though.

Jaune stood outside the inn, his eyes fixed on the sea that stretched out before him. The waters around Vytal Island were calm, the gentle waves lapping against the shore, a stark contrast to the chaos and mess they had just endured a while. He took a deep breath, the salty air filling his lungs, and allowed himself a moment of reflection.

The fight against the Hound had been troubling, unlike any battle he had ever faced. He had faced one a long time ago, but it wasn't him who defeated it and his friends never really gave out many details on how they defeated it. Even now, the images of the grotesque fusion of human and Grimm haunted his thoughts. It was an abomination, something that should not have existed. And yet, they had encountered it, fought it, and survived.

Jaune leaned against the railing, his gaze distant. He could still feel the weight of Crocea Mors in his hands, the strain on his muscles as he pushed himself to the limit. He had given everything he had in that fight, channeling his aura to its fullest potential. It had almost not been enough. Then again, using his Semblance… it was painful sometimes… but not enough that he wouldn't use it. He had lost a lot of confidence when using his Semblance... especially when he thought of what happened at that bridge... it was something he'd have to live with forever.

"At least we killed it," he muttered to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. "A shame that the person inside couldn't be save…"

The Hound's regeneration had been relentless, a testament to the dark power that had created it. And then there was the human inside, a soul trapped in a nightmarish existence, used as a vessel for the Grimm. The thought made Jaune's skin crawl. How could anyone do that to another person? What kind of twisted mind could conceive of such a monstrosity?

He closed his eyes, trying to push the horrific image out of his mind. The Hound's eyes, glowing with malevolent intelligence, still seemed to stare back at him. The sheer thought it was not just a Grimm, but a human twisted into something unrecognizable, had shaken him to his core.

"What kind of world are we living in?" he wondered aloud. "When humans can be turned into monsters?"

It was a question he'd always asked.

"Still… Miss Goodwitch… this time… she's really something."

Jaune thought of Glynda, her fierce determination during the battle, her unwavering resolve. Honestly, it made him admire her more than ever. She had faced the Hound with a courage that inspired everyone around her, and together, they managed to fight it.

Jaune saw even Glynda had been shaken by the discovery. He remembered the look in her eyes, a mix of shock and horror, as they freed the human from the Hound's grasp. It was a moment that he knew would stay with them both for a long time.

"Did Oz not tell her? Then again, maybe she had this era of traveling around and Oz didn't tell her anything yet. She did say Maria was quite a legend... but didn't mention about her being able to blast Grimm with silver eyes...better keep quiet about things I shouldn't know for now..."

Jaune's thoughts drifted to the other Huntsmen and Huntresses. They had all fought bravely, setting traps, maintaining the perimeter, doing everything they could to stop the Hound. If they weren't there, he had a good feeling that Hound would have tried to escape. Jaune was glad that they had acted as this wall to stop the Hound. The traps and dust barriers were simply a final option just in case the Hound attacks them.

"We're all just doing our best," Jaune said softly. "Trying to make a difference in a world that's so often cruel and unforgiving. It's always the same thing... no matter the era or time.

The sea before him was vast, an endless expanse that seemed to stretch into infinity. It reminded him of the challenges they faced as Huntsmen and Huntresses. The Grimm were a constant threat and these good huntsmen and huntresses now know they had to contend with something even more insidious, the possibility that humans could be corrupted into becoming their worst enemy.

"Was it okay to let everyone know about the Hound?" Jaune asked. He then tightened his grip on the railing, his resolve hardening. No, they couldn't let fear paralyze them. They had to keep moving forward, keep fighting, and keep protecting those who couldn't protect themselves. That was their duty, their purpose. Ignorance was not a bliss, it only lead them unprepared.

They needed to be armed and ready.

That was a how a Huntsman should be.

He thought about the people they had saved, the innocent lives that depended on their strength and courage. They were the reason he had become a Huntsman, the reason he fought with everything he had. The people of Remnant deserved to live without fear, to have a future free from the terror of the Grimm.

After getting out of the Everafter, it became even more important to him.

"We can't give up," Jaune said, his voice firm. "No matter how hard it gets, no matter what we face, we have to keep fighting."

But still… there were still some things that he can't just quiet.

Jaune gazed up at the star-filled sky, the cool night air brushing against his face. The inn behind him was quiet now, the Huntsmen and Huntresses resting after the day's battle.

He took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts, but the weight of his situation bore down on him, relentless and unyielding. It was a thought he couldn't escape, especially when alone.

"I've been thrown into the past... again," he murmured to himself. "I didn't expect to go back this far. So many years..."

The reality of his predicament always hit him like a ton of bricks. Years separated him from the life he once knew, from his friends, his team, and everything he held dear. The Blacksmith, what Alyx left, had given him the gift of youth again, but at what cost? How many years would it take for him to see his friends again? How would he face them without pretending he didn't miss them with every fiber of his being?

"Why am I here?" Jaune whispered, his voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of the waves. The questions circled in his mind, unanswered and taunting. He had been given a second chance, but for what purpose? The path ahead seemed murky and uncertain.

It surprised him to see Glynda Goodwitch so young, so reckless, and adventurous. The Glynda Goodwitch he knew had always been the epitome of discipline and control, a stalwart protector of Vale who held her ground without a single trace of fear. But here she was, willing to travel and fight alongside him, full of fire and determination. It was a side of her he had never imagined, and it left him wondering about the complexities of fate and destiny.

"The Rusted Knight exists," Jaune mused, a faint smile touching his lips. "That's something."

The tales of the Rusted Knight had always been a source of inspiration for him when he was a child, a reminder of the hero he aspired to be. But now, knowing that he was that knight, it filled him with a sense of profound wonder and sadness. Was he a fixed point in time, destined to repeat the same story over and over? If people remembered the Rusted Knight, did it mean that his adventures had already happened? Or was he carving an alternative path in this timeline with its own unique challenges and outcomes?

"I thought about it," Jaune said softly. "This could be another timeline. I was afraid of approaching the Kingdoms after learning I went back in time again... but it seems that destiny and fate have other plans for me."

He looked up at the stars, feeling small and insignificant under their vast expanse. The Tree, the mysterious entity that had played a role in his place here, loomed large in his mind.

"What do you want from me?" he asked, his voice filled with frustration and uncertainty. "I've no idea what to do. Should I stay still? Wait for years? Or continue this journey without care?"

This Remnant felt like an alien world to him. He had almost forgotten everything when he was in the Everafter. Everything here was familiar yet different, the people, the places, the very air he breathed. He longed for the comfort of his old life, for the camaraderie of his friends, for the familiar rhythms of a world he understood. But he was here now, in this strange and uncertain place, trying to make sense of it all.

"This place isn't my home," Jaune said, his voice tinged with sadness. "There's nothing familiar. But yet I'm still here... trying... hoping that somehow my presence would mean something."

He thought of Glynda again, of how she might have gotten herself out of that pickle and then gone back to Vale to teach. He hadn't wanted to interfere in her life, to change her destiny, but it seemed he had thrown that idea out the window. The battle with the Hound, the threat of Salem, and the countless challenges that lay ahead — it would take years to face them all.

"Miss Goodwitch might have gone back to Vale to teach normally if I had just stayed still and watched," Jaune muttered. "But I didn't want to interfere... and yet, here I am."

He sighed, running a hand through his white-streaked hair. The weight of his responsibilities felt heavy on his shoulders, but he couldn't ignore the call to action. He couldn't just stand by and watch as the world moved on without him. He had to do something, anything, to make a difference.

"The Hound, Salem... so many years," Jaune said, his voice filled with determination. "It'll take time… for her to move again… maybe she already is… moving. Oh Tree, what is it?"

He couldn't give up.

He had to keep moving forward — keep fighting, keep hoping.

"This... it's not over yet," Jaune said, his voice filled with quiet resolve. "It's never over…"

Jaune stood motionless. It was then that footsteps broke the silence behind him, soft and hesitant. He turned to see Glynda approaching, her figure outlined by the soft glow from the inn's windows. Even in her twenties, she was undeniably beautiful. No, even now, in his memories of the future, she was still beautiful. Time had not diminished her grace or her strength, but this younger Glynda Goodwitch possessed a fierceness that differed from the composed and disciplined professor and headmistress he had known and respected.

As she drew closer, Jaune couldn't help but stare. There was a vitality in her now, an adventurous spirit that he had not seen in the older Glynda. Her eyes, sharp and clear, reflected a determination that seemed to burn from within. She noticed his gaze and, to his surprise, blushed, a faint pink coloring her cheeks.

If he had stared at Miss Goodwitch like this in the future, she would have rolled her eyes and given him a stern lecture about propriety and focus. But this Glynda, younger and less seasoned, seemed almost shy under his scrutiny. It was a side of her that was both endearing and surprising.

"Jaune," she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of curiosity, "why are you awake?"

Jaune hesitated, then smiled gently. "I was just thinking about the future," he replied, his tone contemplative. "At the moment, I want to see Remnant... but in the future, I think I want to find a place to belong."

Glynda stepped closer, leaning against the railing beside him. Her eyes searched his face, trying to understand the weight of his words. "A place to belong?" she echoed. "What do you mean?"

Jaune turned his gaze back to the sea, the moonlight reflecting in his eyes. "I've been through so much, Glynda. Seen so many things. Right now, it's all about surviving and fighting the battles that come our way. But someday, I want more than that. I want to find a place where I can feel at home, where I can make a difference without constantly being on the move."

Glynda nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. "I understand that. It's hard to think about the future."

Jaune looked at her, curiosity sparking in his eyes. "What about you, Glynda? What do you want?"

Glynda seemed taken aback by the question, her brow furrowing as she considered her answer. "I'm not sure," she admitted quietly. "I did want to be a professor once, to teach and guide the next generation of Huntsmen and Huntresses. But things have changed."

Jaune's expression softened. "Do you think you'll do that when you're done traveling around? When all of this is over?"

Glynda looked away, her gaze distant, as if searching for answers in the night sky. "Maybe," she said softly. "There's a part of me that still wants to teach, to share what I've learned. But right now, it feels like there's so much more I need to do before settling down into that role… I believe that if I do that… I have a feeling I would forever be bind into that role."

Jaune nodded, understanding her hesitation. "I think you'd make a great professor," he said with absolute certainty. "You have so much knowledge and experience. And you're a natural leader."

Glynda smiled faintly, a hint of gratitude in her eyes. "Thank you, Jaune. I really wonder sometimes where that confidence comes from."

Jaune simply smiled.

"You know," Jaune began, his tone light and sincere, a teasing smile on his face. "I've never met anyone quite like you, Miss Goodwitch."

Glynda raised an eyebrow at the 'Miss', then a hint of curiosity and amusement in her expression, wondering, that made him say this suddenly "Oh? And what makes me so different?"

Jaune smiled, genuinely appreciating her presence. "It's not just your skill or your strength, though those are impressive. It's your spirit. You're so determined and fierce, but you also care deeply about the people around you. It's inspiring."

Glynda's cheeks flushed a delicate pink, her composure momentarily slipping. "Th-thank you, Jaune. That's... very kind of you to say."

Jaune, oblivious to her flustered state, continued, "I'm serious, Glynda. Seeing you fight today, seeing how you led everyone with such confidence... it makes me want to be better. To push myself harder. You have this amazing ability to bring out the best in people. Maybe that's why I say you'd be a good professor?"

Glynda looked away, trying to hide her growing blush. "You're giving me too much credit, Jaune. I'm just doing what needs to be done. That just what any proper huntress should be."

"But you do it so well," Jaune insisted, his voice warm with admiration. "And it's not just about fighting. It's who you are. You're strong, smart, and, well... pretty amazing."

Glynda's face turned an even deeper shade of red. "Jaune, I—"

Before she could finish, Jaune continued, "And it's not just your skills as a Huntress. You're also beautiful. I mean, even when you're focused and serious, there's this... elegance about you. It's really something. How do you do it?"

Glynda's mind raced, her heart pounding in her chest. She had never been on the receiving end of such genuine compliments, especially from someone as earnest as Jaune. She tried to regain her composure, but his words had left her flustered and at a loss for how to respond.

"Jaune, that's... really sweet of you, but I think you should get some rest," Glynda said, trying to steer the conversation away from the uncomfortable territory it had wandered into. "We've had a long day, and we'll need our strength for whatever comes next."

Jaune nodded, oblivious to the effect his words had on her. "You're right. Rest is important." He gave her one last genuine smile. "Goodnight, Glynda."

"Goodnight, Jaune," she replied, her voice soft and her blush still faintly visible, trying to warm her cheeks and reddened ears.

As Jaune turned and headed back inside the inn, Glynda took a moment to steady herself. She placed a hand over her chest, feeling the rapid beat of her heart. It had been a long time since anyone had made her feel this way, and she wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

Jaune, meanwhile, made his way to his room, but found himself unable to sleep. His mind was still buzzing with thoughts of the battle and the future. He walked back outside, drawn once more to the tranquil beauty of the sea. The moonlight cast a serene glow over the water, and the gentle sound of the waves was soothing.

He leaned against the railing, looking out at the endless expanse of water. A melody began to form in his mind, a song he had heard long ago. Without thinking, he started to sing softly to himself, "So this… is what life is… no trouble now… just quiet…"

The words flowed easily, carried by the gentle breeze. The song was a reminder of simpler times, a moment of peace in the midst of chaos. As he sang, he felt a sense of calm wash over him. The weight of his responsibilities, the uncertainties of the future, all seemed to fade away for a moment.

"All this is a miracle," he sang tiredly. "What more can you ask for?"

Jaune's voice was soft and clear, blending with the sounds of the night. He closed his eyes, letting the melody carry him away. For a brief, precious moment, he was just a young man standing by the sea, singing to the night.

Waiting.

He'd always be waiting…

It seems even this time he'll have to wait again.

As his song came to an end, he opened his eyes and sighed contentedly. The sea, the stars, the quiet — it was all a reminder that, despite everything, there were still moments of beauty and peace to be found. He would hold on to this feeling, let it fuel his determination for the challenges ahead.

He needed to.

He could wait again.

Forever waiting… for he had the patience to do so.