"You're going to be leaving?" Ruby said nervously.

"Yeah, I just wanted to say bye to all of you. I'll be leaving pretty early tomorrow, so this will be the last time I see you."

"Um, for someone who's leaving so fast, you have a lot of things that aren't packed up." Yang pointed out.

"My father is taking care of that. There'll be some SDC employees by to get all my stuff."

"Weiss," It was Blake. She had been silent since Weiss had come into the room. "You saved me from making a mistake back in first year when we were chasing Torchwick. I wanted to walk away from all of you, be alone, isolate myself. You saved me from that. Don't be a hypocrite." Weiss smiled softly. She had been expecting something like that.

"I love all of you, you're like the sisters I never had." They didn't speak. They understood that, even though she had a biological sister, Weiss didn't have any siblings. "But I don't have a choice. You should know that as well as anyone Blake. The SDC is corrupt and broken, and someone needs to do something about it."

"Going to work for your father? You're not going to do anyone any good Weiss." Ruby's voice, uncharacteristically quiet, piped up. Weiss couldn't answer her directly. Ruby was right. Weiss wanted to believe that she was leaving to try and do good, but she wasn't. She was going because her father was making her. Ever since she was a child, she was going to end up right where she was. It didn't matter which friends she made, who she loved, it would always end like this. She was always going to work for her father, carry on the family name. It was inescapable; inevitable.

"It's not something I expect you to understand," It was a blatant lie. They understood perfectly what would happen. "But I have to go. You can't change my mind on this because it's not my choice to make-"

"It shouldn't be your father's choice." Blake's voice was dangerous.

"You don't get it, it's not his choice either. It's no one's choice. It's-"

"Cut it, Weiss." Blake cut her off again. "I never really had parents. The White Fang took me in as a child, taught me to hate. They're all I ever knew. I still had a choice though. Don't let yourself be dominated by something you hate."

Weiss was quiet, and for a moment, she found herself thinking about Blake's book. The one about the man with two souls. He had been dominated by something he hated, but he had broken from it. That was a story though, and Weiss' life was anything but. She was grounded in reality, and even though she had allowed herself to hope for brief, foolhardy moments, she knew what was going to happen.

"Does Jaune know?" Ruby asked, and Weiss' heart sank. She wished that Ruby hadn't asked that. She had been dreading the question. Not trusting her voice, she shook her head.

"Weiss, you need to tell him. You should talk to him."

"What good would that do? It's grad tonight Ruby, and it's our last night together. Ever. If I tell him, he'll be mad at me. We'll spend our last day together arguing. He's going to hate me one way or another, at least let us have a few more hours together."

There was a silence, sickening, sobering, and somehow sad. She could see it in their faces. They knew how this was going to play out. They knew she would leave without telling him, and there was nothing they could do. But they didn't like it, not one bit.

Ruby let out a heavy sigh.

"If there's nothing we can do to get you to stay, then alright. It's your decision in the end." Weiss almost pointed out that it wasn't her decision, but let it slide. "We'll respect that. I wish you'd reconsider, but thanks for telling us Weiss. It's been a good four years." Weiss smiled thinly. There was a catch in her throat, and she couldn't speak for a moment. She wasn't expecting to feel this emotional, though she was saying bye to the only four friends she had ever really made. It shouldn't be so surprising.

The farewells came quickly after that. There was a lot of hugging, a few tears, and then a quick sobering up when Yang reminded everyone that graduation was only a few hours away, and knowing Weiss, it would take her at least that long to get ready. A quick laugh, then the room was abuzz with a frantic energy, everyone preparing.

The entire time Weiss felt something churning in her stomach. Guilt, fear, nervousness, and excitement. She was graduating!

...

But Dust, she was graduating...

He lay the thick blanket out on the rooftop, the same one he had brought to their picnic on her birthday. She smiled at that. Little things of that sort were part of why she loved him. He cared enough to remember.

A breeze whispered past her pale skin, raising goosebumps on it and pushing the soft fabric of her charcoal grey dress against her. She hugged herself as Jaune straightened, grinning at her. He saw that she was cold, and immediately shucked his suit jacket. He walked up to her, kissed her on the cheek softly, and draped it over her shoulders. It was warm, probably from the dancing of earlier in the evening, and Weiss immediately felt more comfortable. He gave her a quick hug, and she closed her eyes, burying her face in his shoulder.

Happiness was elusive, something that was nigh on impossible to catch and pin down. Weiss hadn't really known it existed until she had come to Beacon. But here, on the rooftop of the dorms with Jaune holding her in his arms, it came easily. Naturally. She breathed deeply, remembering the moment, enjoying it.

But not without a twinge of guilt.

"Come on," He whispered in her ear, escorting her over to the blanket. She lay down on it, and it was soft and comfortable. Not that she would have minded if it wasn't. Next to Jaune, it didn't matter what the world around her was like. She was just happy. Without exception.

She curled into him, her leg falling over his naturally. Fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle that were otherwise ruined, perfect only along one joining edge. Only together did they have any salvation from the world.

She was going to miss it. She was going to miss him so, so much.

Weiss wanted to cry, but crying would demand an explanation. And she couldn't tell him. They had less than twelve hours left together, and Weiss, who only truly existed with him beside her, knew that she would die after that. She'd be there, walking, talking, making deals and consulting, but she would be a shell. The life, love, longing, hope and fear that made her who she was, that defined her, that came out when he offered her the safety of unconditional acceptance, would wither away. Vanish.

And he couldn't find out about that. Not yet.

"So, how about Beacon?" She giggled, allowing herself to enjoy the moment. Every second stood out sharply, each fraction of a second crystal clear. The knowledge that it was all going to be gone soon heightened all her senses, added definition to everything. In the guiltiest of ways, it made her even happier to be where she was.

"Beacon was okay I guess." She downplayed, knowing full well that it was the best her life would get.

"Pretty good four years eh?"

"Better than back home."

"You mean back in prison?" She looked up and met his eyes, like two little chips of sapphire.

"You remember that?" She was surprised. It had been a surprisingly big moment for her, one that she had remembered despite trying to push it out of her mind before they became friends. It was why they were where they were. She had met him in first year, but their story had started that day, on a bench, watching airships drift in and out of Beacon's airfield.

"How could I forget? That was the first time I felt comfortable around you."

"You made yourself plenty comfortable during first year." He chuckled.

"I was just trying to figure out how to get your attention. I figured with you being an heiress, you'd have a lot of guys asking you out in a prim proper fashion. I wanted to be different. So, I got as far away from that as possible."

"So, guitar songs to ask me to the dance?"

"Might not have been my smoothest move."

"You think?"

"And then you went with Neptune." She laughed.

"Well, technically no. He just danced with me when we got there."

"You're welcome for that." He winked at her. She laughed again.

"I can't believe that it was you. My first dance... In a way it was still you. You were the thought behind it."

"I did not enjoy that night."

"Mm? Watching me dance with Neptune and then putting on a dress... You're an interesting man Jaune." He smiled, leaned down and kissed her.

"Yeah, but that's what makes me a Prince Charming."

"Still a frog prince to me." He rolled his eyes and she laughed.

Their talking petered out as the stars rose high above them, the shattered moon shining down on them. Neither of them felt the need to fill the silence with uneasy, awkward small talk. They just lay together, under the second blanket Jaune had brought, curled against one another. There was an intimacy to that moment, a love deep and abiding enough that it didn't need to be said. It just existed, and for both of them, it was undeniable. Weiss knew how selfish she was being, but she couldn't bring herself to shatter the perfection of the silence to tell him.

It was a familiar silence, one not unlike what they had experienced three years ago at the airfield. Comfortable. Except this time, Weiss knew why. It was because Jaune was perfect for her. He was everything she ever could have asked for, the accentuating feature of the only four years of her life she would ever enjoy.

As the moon reached its zenith, she didn't feel the least bit tired. Being next to him, she felt electrified, like every nerve in her body was buzzing with unbridled energy. Pure ecstasy, but of a sort that lasted. One she knew she could have forever if she just chose to stay with him. If she spent the night next to him and didn't leave in the morning, that was what she could have.

But she was going to leave in the morning.

That was later though, and Weiss wanted to experience now.

She reached her head up and found his lips. It had been at least an hour since they had spoken, but she knew he was just as awake as she, and she needed to feel him against her. The soft embrace of his lips offered reprieve, assurance that he was there, even if she wouldn't be. Weiss leaned into the kiss, letting it grow more passionate, erasing the physical boundaries between them. She flipped her leg over so she was on top of him, her hands grabbing the soft skin of his cheeks, feeling the hard edge of his jawbone, pulling him into her. His hands slid over her body, pressing her closer to him, the two of them moving in perfect synchronicity. They knew each other perfectly now, so intimate it seemed like they were one whole rather than two ruined, fragmented, tortured souls.

She let the heat of the moment take over, pushing any conscious thoughts from her mind. She just kissed him, knowing that this was the last time she would. Knowing this would be the last time she felt the hard, toned muscles of his body, see his nearly angelic face, feel his skin next to hers. Weiss knew that this was it. This was the end. But she didn't think about that. She didn't think at all. She just let the burning passion take over, the absolute love and devotion obliterating all barriers between them. It was just him and her and the warmth deep inside her, the undeniable love, and there was nothing else that mattered.

"She what?" Empty, hollow, devoid of feeling.

"She said she had to go."

"Why?" That question was asked on many different levels.

"She... Thinks that it will be easier this way."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know,"

Pyrrha was painfully aware of how close they were. He was so near she could feel the slight warmth radiating from his skin. They sat side by side, shoulder by shoulder, a hairsbreadth away from one another, and Pyrrha wanted nothing more than to close that fraction of an inch between them. She wanted to hug him, comfort him. She settled for placing her hand on his back, rubbing small circles over it.

Despite their proximity, he felt so far away.

"Jaune, I'm sorry."

"What for?" He looked up at her, and her breath caught when she saw the deep pools of his eyes.

"That this happened to you. You're a great guy, and I think you'll find a great girl. You didn't deserve this."

"I already found a great girl." He said numbly, and Pyrrha's heart twisted in her chest. She wasn't sure if it was for herself or for him.

"I know you loved her Jaune, but she left... If she cared-"

"She didn't have a choice." The words echoed like the cry of a ghost in her ear. A perfect mirror of what Weiss had said. "I- I knew this was coming. Sometime. I didn't know when, and I thought maybe I could save her for a few years at least."

"Save her?"

"Yeah,"

Pyrrha didn't understand, but she didn't press the issue.

She saw a tear hit the ground. He hadn't sobbed. His voice hadn't cracked. He had made no indication that he was crying. And yet he was.

He stood from beside her, and Pyrrha's heart skipped a beat as he took a step away from her. A step that might as well have been a thousand miles for what he said next.

"I guess that's it for me then." It was said with utter resignation. He turned back, smiling sadly at her. Her heart broke in her chest, and a deep yearning welled up within her, making her want to stand and embrace him. Tell him how she felt, that she wouldn't leave him, that she could always be there by his side. She stood, her arm drifting up, almost unconsciously, and then she stopped. She looked away, biting her lip. It wouldn't be fair to him for her to do that. She had promised Weiss she would be there, and she knew that he needed her, so she would be a friend. She could never be anything more.

She met his eyes once more. They looked old and weary - dull, but they still had the spark of life in them that Pyrrha loved. There was a trail from where the tear had streaked down his face, and Pyrrha had to fight back the urge to brush it away. To brush away his pain, and replace it with a warm touch. He raised a hand and ran it through his hair, his long locks shifting in his hand, trailing like strands of gold in the wind. She thought he looked like an angel crying. A broken vision, a picture marred by despair and sadness, but utterly perfect in its undeniable beauty.

But she could never tell him.

A tear slid down her cheek, and she hastily brushed it away, thinking she may have successfully hidden it from him. He saw though, and she knew he could never know why she was crying.

"Pyrrha?" He asked, worry in his voice. He had just been left, abandoned, deserted, and he still had the time to consider her before himself. He was the most selfless person she knew.

He hugged her, but not in the way she wanted. He held her like a friend, comforting her as he might Ruby, and that made it so much worse. She had wanted to feel him hold her against him for so long, a loving embrace, one that spoke of things felt but that could never be expressed fully by words. She wanted him to hold her like he loved her, as though her feelings were reciprocated. As though the world might finally be fair and maybe make sense.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to stop herself from feeling the way she did, but it couldn't be helped. She would never stop loving him the way she did. And in that moment she knew that Jaune never would either. He loved Weiss unconditionally, just as Pyrrha did him. It would never change, and she knew she would never love someone else, and neither would he.

She let the tears come. She let him see how she felt, just this once. She felt moisture wet the fabric of her shirt on her shoulder, just under where his chin was resting. Another tear. He was crying too.

So they stood there; both despairing for lost loves and the inevitable unfairness of it all. He would never know why she cried, he would never know the reason, but he understood what she cried for. Pyrrha found some semblance of comfort in that, in knowing that they shared at least that one thing.

She would spend an eternity watching the man she loved love another, and he would suffer the entire time. The best she could do was try and stop the bleeding by ripping her own heart out. Because that's what it was, being with him and never being able to tell him. It was sundering her apart, and it would continue to do so.

Every single day.

Again, and again, and again.

Weiss walked into her extravagant penthouse. She paused this time, registering the superficial niceties of the apartment. When she had bought it, she had thought that they were beautiful in a way. They weren't though. In fact, they were ugly. She found them repulsive. She found the entire building repulsive. Elegant and perhaps as close to perfection as humans could get, but flawed in the fundamental idea behind them. They were created to be beautiful by being flawless.

She was wearing her ocean blue dress again, and she finally remembered why it had been her favourite for so many years, followed quickly by the realization that it was her second favourite. Weiss had worn it three days in a row. Ever since she had heard those few words. She couldn't bear to wear the other one.

She walked towards the room, thoughts of sapphire eyes and tender kisses reviving in her mind, awoken after years of dormancy. She began to remember, each step she took bringing another ghostly thought. She saw the counter, where once upon a time she had tried to cook sushi. She had failed miserably, just like the first time she had tried. She remembered that night, and smiled thinly. She wondered how often she would have had sushi if she had stayed that night oh so long ago.

It was a trivial thing to wonder, and yet it seemed more important than every single life altering deal she had made earlier in the day.

She made her way into the bedroom, walking straight to the washroom. She turned the tap, watching the water run out of the immaculate swam sculpture. There was not a single flaw in its faceted surface, and yet she saw the entire thing as flawed.

She splashed the cold water onto her face, not bothering to find the sweet spot. She wanted the cold, icy shock. It hit her and she gasped, sucking in breaths that came out ragged and broken, just like she was. She staved off the tears though. As she had for three days.

Weiss looked at the mirror, fragmented lyrics of an ancient song running through her mind. The song posed a question, and she knew the answer. There was a why to it all, but that was a hopeless question, beyond human comprehension. She would never know why it was her. She had screwed up, but it was all a result of a long chain of events, stringing back to her childhood, interconnected, leading to this moment.

And it was inarguably her fault.

She broke contact with the icy gaze in the mirror, the cracked glaciers of her irises. The emotionless words, listed by a faceless reporter, ran through her mind. Unconnected to her life, known only thanks to overhearing a snippet of nearly muted speech at a business lunch. Two hunters - partners - described by a short colleague with tinted hair tips and her blonde sister as becoming more and more reckless, throwing themselves into more radical and dangerous missions with unexplained fervour, two broken animals running from some pain only they could see. Of course, such a lifestyle had consequences. Injuries, isolation from previous friends, constant danger, but they continued.

It hadn't gone according to plan. They were supposed to save each other. Weiss was supposed to suffer, and they were supposed to be happy. She was supposed to finally get her chance to be with him, but it had never happened that way. Instead of healing, they had self-destructed, continuing on, pushing themselves further and further. Everything has a breaking point.

She removed the dress, placing it in the hamper. It was dirty, had been for two days, but she had worn it again despite the fact. She just wanted to be around that colour again, however briefly and fleetingly it was. She couldn't wear it again though, couldn't bear to see the reminder. She pulled one of her silk gowns down, tying it around her waist, numbly making her way back to the bathroom. She pulled down her exfoliator, but just stared at it.

They had saved thousands. After the snippet of a report, she had done her research. Their carelessness had made them the best in a century, maybe longer. The most dangerous situations, those which would be unthinkable to others, were a welcome opportunity for them. Oblivion wasn't so bad, not for two as wounded and broken as them. The creatures of nightmares weren't nearly as terrifying when your entire existence was one.

Weiss disrobed, dropping the delicate silk callously on the ground, stepping into the shower. She turned it on, letting the warm water tickle her smooth skin lightly. She wanted it to wash away who she was, return her to the hollow shell, devoid of all feeling, but it didn't. Water had no magical effects, and there was nothing in the world that could fix her.

She exited, feeling no better. She dried off, then returned to the mirror.

She couldn't stand the sight of it. Of herself. Dust, she should have thought it through. It had all fit, she thought it made sense. A few months of pain, bonding with the caring, stable presence. She had loved him, and even if it took time, he was supposed to love her. But he hadn't. It didn't work. Love was a foul, sick creature, and it would turn any chance at normality on its head and throw it back in the face of the planner.

It had twisted them until they had no choice. At least they had done good in their time. Weiss wondered if he had ever been happy after that day. Had she stolen his entire life away? Had she been so stupidly selfish?

She walked into her closet, a dark grey catching her eye. For years, it would never enter her mind. She could almost convince herself it was a shadow, but at the end of the closet, tucked into the corner on the floor, it was there. She walked over and picked up the smooth material. It wasn't nearly as nice as what she normally wore, but it was so much more beautiful. She ran the charcoal grey fabric of the dress through her fingers, walking backwards towards her bed.

She had not worn that dress since her last day with him.

A glint of silver and gold caught her eye and she saw the pen on its stand, standing tall, mocking her. She had chosen it all that time ago. She had brought it with her wherever she went, the one constant in her life.

Rage, red hot and terrified, roared to life inside her. That pen that had taken her life, made her think she had no choice, made her think she was doing the right thing when it was controlling her, twisting her, warping her. She screamed, not sure why she was screaming at a pen, grabbed it, and threw it violently into the floor. It cracked, ink leaking out from a fresh hole in the side of it, almost as if it were bleeding.

Weiss clutched the dress to her chest, stumbling backwards until she fell onto the edge of her bed. The ghost of his kisses on her lips drifted through her mind, making her want to go back to them, back to when she was happy, and he was happy, and even in their broken, fractured world, there was one source of bliss and peace. She wanted him to hold he again, like he had on the roof their last night together. Like he had countless times. She wanted him to cook some chicken for her while she made a salad. She wanted to dance late into the night, being swung around by him, feeling happy despite all the horrors of her life. She just wanted to see him. One last time.

Weiss pressed the material of the dress against her face, a sob wracking her body. It was soon followed by another, and the tears, pushed down not for three days, but for years, came. The overwhelming, gaping hole in chest opened up, feeling like someone had stabbed her a thousand times. Her insides roiled, rebelling and twisting at the truth she didn't want to have to face. She cried hopelessly, because hope was gone. She had driven it away the second she had left him. And now it had stolen the one thing she ever truly loved from her.

Because she had killed them both. Pyrrha was dead.

So was he.

There was nothing to overcome the sorrow. There was nothing left for her but pain and utter, inescapable isolation.

Because there was nothing left to do, nothing that could dull the white hot pain in her heart, she just cried into the smooth silk of her charcoal grey dress.

She cried, knowing that nothing could ever be right in the world again.

Because Jaune Arc was gone forever.

...

Hi there...

So I feel I should explain myself. This story started out as pure fluff. It was good that way, but then, thinking about why they were bonding, it became evident that Weiss couldn't commit. She didn't think she had choice in the matter even though she really did, but for her to change, for her to realize that she was constantly making the decision not to be with him, her chance had to be taken away. And it makes sense for Jaune too. And for Pyrrha. They didn't kill themselves... They just couldn't bring themselves to save their own lives. They both loved someone that could never love them back, and there's pain that comes with that. Pain makes for rash decisions.

I was trying to find a way to make this work out happy. I honestly was, promise. I slowed down my writing for a really long time, trying to play around with ways to make this end well. The only things I could come up with were bs hollywood endings where everyone has sudden epiphanies about who they are and the realities of life. It would have been forced to say the least.

I hope you all understand why it had to end the way it did, even though I know it sucks. It sucked to write. At least there was some fluffiness at grad, right? Right? No? Okay...

Nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed reading. This is the final chapter (though I will be releasing a side story about Weiss' 21st birthday, which will involve a bar), so I hope you liked the story as much as I enjoyed writing it (well, parts of it anyways).

For those of you who have stuck with this until the end, thank you so much. The reason I write largely has to do with creating something for others, and it's all of you who are reading that keeps me going. So thanks! As usual, especially at the end of a story, feedback is really appreciated. If you think I made the wrong call, let me know. If you liked (in that deprecating way we sometimes do) the story, that's great to hear as well! I know I'm not a perfect author yet, and knowing how everyone responds will only help me make better stories in the future.

Finally, please don't hurt me too bad.

Signing off for the last time:

-Unjax