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“Hello again!”
It wasn’t the first time that he had heard those words in recent years, but there was something unforgettable about the lilting cadence and gentle warmth in the voice that spoke them. Jaune’s head snapped up from his glass of whiskey. He inhaled sharply at the sight of emerald eyes in front of him, frozen against the tide of emotions and memories washing over him.
The glint of sunlight on a bronze headband. That wry smile she used to wear when Jaune did something stupid that she found endearing. Pale skin with red hair cascading across it. Hours spent sparring with her in training matches. A powerful warrior, suddenly vulnerable, standing alone on a moonlit balcony in a flowing red dress.
A single falling maple leaf in the golden Autumn sunset. A brief moment of intimacy in that same sunset. God, her smile. Her gigantic laugh, the purest expression of joy Jaune had ever encountered. The gentle weight of her head on his shoulder, the radiant warmth of her hand underneath his.
The tears in her eyes. The feeling of being slammed into a wall. Her confusion. The horrible feeling of not being able to soothe her distress. And those horrible feelings multiplied over the course of that night.
The tournament match against Penny. The swarms of Grimm closing in on Vale and Beacon. That mad rush into the vault under the school. Her cry of anguish from inside that infernal machine. A first, and last kiss. Her last words to Jaune;
“I’m sorry.”
But of all these memories, one stood out above the rest. It was a memory from the first day they met. Sunlight filtering through trees above, her left hand upon his cheek, and those six words that would forever change him.
“Now, close your eyes and concentrate.”
A sudden warmth in the depths of his chest, radiating outwards to his limbs. But it didn’t stop at his body. The warmth passed from Jaune and into her, and from her into Jaune. Glorious shades of scarlet and gold played behind his closed eyelids, all the while a pressure was building in his heart. It was an exquisite sort of agony that was almost too much to bear. And yet, Jaune never wanted it to stop. The pressure continued to build until finally it felt as though his entire chest cavity had cracked open, and all colors faded into a blinding white light.
That warmth had never left Jaune. It was always there in the depths of his soul. Some days it was a comfort, knowing that even though Pyrrha Nikos was gone, he carried a piece of her soul within him. Other days, it was the most painful thing he had ever experienced. At that moment, his blue eyes focused on brilliant green irises in front of him, it was the most terrible pain he could imagine.
“Are you okay?”
With those words, the flood of memories receded. He blinked, and the rest of the bartender’s face came into focus behind her green eyes. Auburn hair atop a heart-shaped face with a button nose and bright pink lips.
Jaune exhaled, and the warmth in his chest pulsed like a migraine that would never go away. He winced as her laugh echoed in his ears.
“No, I’m not okay. Maybe tomorrow.”
He finished his whiskey in a single gulp, handed the bartender some Lien to cover his tab, and walked out of the bar.