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Too Late for Lilies

Summary:

When Weiss Schnee finally snaps at Jaune Arc's persistent romantic advances, her cruel words in Beacon's library cut deeper than she ever intended. What starts as a desire to set boundaries becomes a lesson in the weight of words and the cost of missed chances.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter Text

Chapter 1: The Harsh Rejection

The afternoon sun streamed through the tall windows of Beacon Academy's library, casting long shadows across the study tables where Weiss Schnee sat surrounded by tactical manuals and Dust theory textbooks. Her pristine white hair was pulled back in its usual side ponytail, and her blue eyes scanned the pages with practiced efficiency. The upcoming dance was still weeks away, but more pressing matters occupied her mind—namely, the increasingly difficult Grimm Studies assignments and her family's expectations weighing heavily on her shoulders.

She had finally found a moment of peace when the familiar sound of stumbling footsteps approached her table.

"Hey, Weiss!" Jaune Arc's voice carried that same hopeful tone it always did, though perhaps with a slight tremor of nervousness. "I was wondering if—"

"No." Weiss didn't even look up from her textbook.

"But you don't even know what I was going to ask," Jaune protested, his voice gaining a bit more confidence as he stepped closer to her table.

Weiss finally raised her eyes, fixing him with an icy stare that could have frozen the Emerald Forest. "Let me guess. You want to ask me to study together, or perhaps invite me to dinner in Vale, or maybe you've written another one of your terrible songs." She closed her book with a sharp snap. "The answer is still no, Arc."

Jaune's face flushed red, but he pressed on. "Actually, I was going to ask if you'd like to go to the dance with me. I know it's still a few weeks away, but I thought maybe if I asked early enough—"

"Are you serious?" Weiss stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor loud enough to draw stares from other students. "Do you honestly think that asking me earlier would somehow change my answer?"

"I just thought—"

"That's your problem, Jaune. You don't think." The words came out sharper than Weiss had intended, but the stress of recent weeks had worn her patience thin. "You never think about how uncomfortable you make me with your constant pestering. You never think about how pathetic you look throwing yourself at someone who has made it crystal clear they're not interested."

Jaune's face went from red to pale in an instant. "Weiss, I didn't mean to—"

"Didn't mean to what? Embarrass yourself? Embarrass me?" Weiss's voice rose, and she could see other students in the library turning to watch the scene unfold. "Your advances are disgusting, Jaune. This desperate, clingy behavior is revolting. Do you have any idea how it feels to be constantly harassed by someone who can't take a hint?"

The library had gone completely silent. Even the sound of turning pages had stopped as students watched the confrontation unfold. Jaune stood frozen, his usual goofy smile completely gone, replaced by something Weiss had never seen on his face before—genuine hurt mixed with what looked like dawning realization.

"You want to know what's really pathetic?" Weiss continued, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper that somehow seemed louder than her shouting. "It's that you're so delusional you actually thought you had a chance. Look at yourself, Jaune. Really look. You're a mediocre fighter, a worse strategist, and you got into this academy through fake transcripts. What exactly did you think I would see in you?"

Jaune's hands clenched into fists at his sides, but not in anger—in shame. His shoulders sagged as if her words had physically struck him. For a long moment, he just stood there, staring at the floor.

When he finally looked up, his blue eyes held none of their usual warmth or determination. They were cold, distant, and somehow older than they had been moments before.

"You're right," he said quietly, his voice barely audible in the silent library. "I'm sorry for bothering you, Weiss. It won't happen again."

He turned and walked away, his usual awkward stumbling replaced by measured, deliberate steps. He didn't look back.

Weiss remained standing by her table, suddenly aware of every pair of eyes in the library focused on her. The satisfaction she had expected to feel at finally getting through to him was nowhere to be found. Instead, there was an odd hollow feeling in her chest, as if something important had just been broken.

She sat back down and opened her textbook, trying to return to her studies, but the words blurred together on the page. Around her, the other students gradually returned to their own work, though she could still feel occasional glances and hear whispered conversations.

"Did you see his face?"

"I've never seen Weiss that angry before."

"Poor guy. He looked like he was about to cry."

Weiss turned a page with more force than necessary, telling herself that she had done what needed to be done. Jaune would finally leave her alone, and she could focus on what really mattered—her studies, her training, her future.

So why did victory taste so bitter?

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of half-read pages and unfocused thoughts. When evening came and Weiss finally returned to her dorm room, she found Ruby bouncing excitedly on her bed, eager to share some story about her latest training session with Crescent Rose.

"And then I managed to combine the scythe swing with a speed boost from my Semblance, and—Weiss? Are you okay? You look kind of... I don't know, upset?"

Weiss hung up her jacket and began organizing her books for the next day's classes. "I'm fine, Ruby. Just tired."

"Are you sure? Because Yang mentioned she heard something happened in the library today with you and—"

"I said I'm fine." Weiss's tone carried enough ice to freeze a lake, and Ruby immediately backed down.

But as Weiss lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling while her teammates slept, she couldn't shake the image of Jaune's face in those final moments—the way his usual bright expression had died completely, replaced by something that looked almost like grief.

She told herself it didn't matter. He had needed to learn that lesson eventually.

So why couldn't she fall asleep?

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: The Aftermath

The change in Jaune Arc was subtle but unmistakable to those who knew him well.

He still bounded into the dining hall each morning with his usual "Good morning!" but now his eyes would skip over Weiss entirely, focusing on Ruby, Yang, and Blake with genuine warmth before moving on. He still lingered after Combat Class to discuss techniques and offer encouragement, but only when Weiss wasn't part of the conversation. When she was present, he would pack up his gear with quiet efficiency and leave with nothing more than a polite nod to the group.

It was as if she had become background noise in his world—acknowledged when necessary, ignored when possible.

"Okay, what's going on?" Yang demanded on the third day, sliding her tray down next to Ruby's as she watched Jaune walk past their table without his usual detour to chat. "Jaune just walked right by us. He didn't even ask how Ruby's weapon maintenance went, and he always asks about that."

"Maybe he's just busy?" Ruby suggested, though she looked confused as she watched Jaune take his seat with Team JNPR. "He waved at us yesterday when we passed him in the hall."

"Yeah, but only after you called his name," Blake observed, looking up from her book. "And did you notice he hesitated before coming over? Like he was checking to see who was with us first."

Yang's eyes narrowed as she followed Blake's gaze to where Jaune sat with his teammates. He was laughing at something Nora said, his usual bright energy on full display. "He seems fine over there. So why the weird behavior around us?"

Weiss carefully cut her apple into precise pieces, trying to appear disinterested in the conversation. "Perhaps he's simply matured enough to respect boundaries."

"Boundaries?" Ruby tilted her head. "But he wasn't crossing any boundaries. He was just being friendly. You know, like when he helped me reorganize my weapon cleaning kit, or when he offered to help Blake with her literature homework."

"And he remembered Yang's birthday was coming up last week," Blake added. "Asked if we were planning anything special."

Yang nodded. "Yeah, but now it's like he's... careful around us. Like he's not sure if he's welcome." She paused, studying Weiss's face. "Actually, now that I think about it, he's fine with the rest of us individually. It's only when you're around that he gets all distant and polite."

"That's ridiculous," Weiss said, though her stomach clenched at the observation.

"Is it?" Blake's amber eyes were thoughtful. "Yesterday in the library, he came over to return a book I'd lent him. We talked for maybe ten minutes about the themes and character development. But the moment you walked up to join us, he suddenly remembered he had somewhere else to be."

"And this morning," Ruby added, her voice growing smaller, "I was telling him about the new modifications I made to Crescent Rose, and he was so excited and asking all these questions. But then you joined us, and he just... stopped. Said he had to get to class early and left."

Yang leaned back in her chair, her lilac eyes fixed on Weiss with growing suspicion. "Weiss, what exactly happened between you two?"

Before Weiss could answer, Jaune's laughter rang out from across the dining hall. She couldn't help but glance over and saw him grinning at something Pyrrha had said, his face bright with genuine joy. It was the same expression he used to wear when talking to all of them, but now it seemed reserved for everyone except her.

"Nothing happened," Weiss said quietly. "I simply made it clear that his advances were unwelcome."

"His advances?" Ruby's voice cracked slightly. "You mean like when he brought us all cookies from that bakery in Vale? Or when he helped carry our gear after that really tough training session?"

"Those weren't advances, they were just Jaune being Jaune," Yang said, her voice developing a dangerous edge. "Please tell me you didn't—"

"I told him the truth." Weiss's voice carried that familiar ice, but there was something brittle underneath it. "That his behavior was inappropriate and needed to stop."

Blake closed her book completely, giving Weiss her full attention. "What exactly did you say to him?"

The question hung in the air like a challenge. Around them, the dining hall buzzed with normal conversation, but their table had fallen into an uncomfortable silence. Weiss found herself thinking of Jaune's face in those final moments—how the light had died in his eyes, how his shoulders had sagged as if her words had physically struck him.

"I told him his advances were pathetic and disgusting," she said quietly. "That he was delusional if he thought he had a chance with me."

The silence that followed was deafening. Ruby's face had gone pale, while Yang looked like she was struggling between anger and disbelief. Even Blake's usually composed expression showed shock.

"Weiss," Ruby's voice was small, hurt. "He brought me soup when I was sick with that flu. He helped Yang with her history homework without being asked. He listened to Blake talk about her favorite books for hours. That wasn't him hitting on you—that was him being our friend."

"A friend who happened to have feelings for you," Blake added quietly. "Which, last I checked, isn't a crime."

Yang leaned forward, her voice dangerously quiet. "How public was this conversation?"

Weiss felt her cheeks burn. "We were in the library."

"Gods, Weiss. In front of other students?" When Weiss didn't answer, Yang ran a hand through her hair. "No wonder he's been acting weird. You humiliated him publicly for the crime of... what? Liking you? Being nice to your friends?"

"I was under a lot of stress—"

"So was he!" Ruby's eyes were bright with unshed tears. "Do you know how hard it's been for him here? Everyone knows about the fake transcripts, everyone knows he's behind in training, and he still tries so hard to be positive and help everyone else! And you called him pathetic for it?"

Blake's voice was steady but cold. "You need to apologize."

"I'm not going to—"

"Yes, you are." Yang's tone brooked no argument. "Because right now, you're not just hurting Jaune. You're hurting Ruby, who looks up to both of you. You're making our entire teams dynamic weird because he's walking on eggshells around us now. And frankly, you're being the kind of person I never thought you'd be."

Weiss felt something cold settle in her stomach. She looked around the table at her teammates—Ruby's disappointed face, Blake's quiet judgment, Yang's barely contained anger—and realized that her actions had consequences she hadn't considered.

"He still talks to you," she said defensively. "He's not avoiding the team."

"No, but he's definitely avoiding you," Yang replied. "And since our teams are friends, that means he's cautious around all of us. Do you see how he hesitates now before approaching us? How he checks to see if you're there first? That's not the behavior of someone who's moved on—that's someone who's afraid of getting hurt again."

As if summoned by their conversation, Jaune appeared at the edge of their table, but his usual easy approach was replaced by visible hesitation. His eyes swept over the group, lingering briefly on Ruby and Yang before carefully avoiding Weiss entirely.

"Hey," he said, his voice carrying its usual warmth but somehow more restrained. "Ruby, did you get a chance to test those modifications we talked about?"

"Oh! Yeah, they worked great! The recoil compensation is so much better now." Ruby's enthusiasm was tinged with something that sounded like relief at the normal interaction.

"That's awesome. I'd love to hear more about how you—" Jaune's gaze accidentally fell on Weiss, and he immediately stepped back. "Actually, I should let you get back to your lunch. I'll catch up with you later, okay?"

"Jaune, you don't have to—" Ruby started, but he was already walking away with a polite smile that didn't reach his eyes.

The table fell silent again, watching him rejoin his teammates. When he sat back down with JNPR, his genuine smile returned, and he was soon laughing at something Nora was saying.

"See?" Yang said quietly. "That's not normal Jaune behavior. Normal Jaune would have sat down uninvited, stolen half of Ruby's cookies, and spent twenty minutes excitedly discussing weapon mechanics while completely ignoring the fact that you were glaring at him."

"I don't glare—"

"You're glaring right now," Blake observed.

Weiss realized she was indeed staring at Jaune's table with an expression that could have frozen the ocean. She forced herself to look away, but the damage was done.

"Fine," she said stiffly. "I'll... I'll speak with him."

"Good," Ruby said, though she still looked upset. "Because I miss having him around. We all do."

But even as Weiss agreed to apologize, she wasn't sure she could follow through. Every time she had seen Jaune over the past few days, she had felt that strange hollowness in her chest grow larger. The way he moved through the halls with quiet purpose instead of his usual enthusiasm, the way his smiles seemed more guarded, the way he had learned to exist in her presence without really acknowledging her at all.

She told herself it was guilt. Simple guilt for being harsher than necessary. Nothing more.

So why did watching him laugh with his teammates while carefully avoiding her make her feel like she had lost something important?

The next few days passed in a blur of Ruby's gentle encouragement and Yang's less-gentle ultimatums. "Maybe you could talk to him after Combat Class?" or "I saw him in the library earlier, studying with Ren..." or "Team JNPR is doing training exercises on the roof if you wanted to..."

Each suggestion was met with Weiss's insistence that she would handle it when the time was right, when she found the right moment, when she figured out what to say. But the truth was, every time she saw Jaune's careful politeness or watched him hesitate before approaching her teammates, the words seemed to die in her throat.

How did you apologize for calling someone's feelings disgusting? How did you take back words that had clearly changed how someone moved through the world?

And why did the thought of his forgiveness suddenly seem so desperately important?

It was Yang who finally forced the issue on Friday afternoon.

"Okay, Ice Queen, time's up," she announced, cornering Weiss after their morning sparring session. "Ruby's been moping for days because the interteam dynamic is weird, Blake's stressed about the tension, and I'm getting tired of watching Jaune treat us like we might bite him if he gets too comfortable."

"Jaune seems fine—"

"Jaune is not fine. He's being polite and careful, which is the opposite of fine for him." Yang crossed her arms. "So here's what's going to happen. You're going to march your pale ass over to wherever he is right now, and you're going to fix this. Today."

Weiss opened her mouth to argue, but the look in Yang's eyes stopped her. It was the same look Yang got when someone threatened the people she cared about—protective, fierce, and absolutely unwilling to compromise.

"Fine," Weiss said, though her stomach churned at the thought. "I'll go find him."

She had no idea that by the time she worked up the courage to approach him, it would already be too late.

Chapter 3

Notes:

Slightly different version. Only wording changes

Chapter Text

Chapter 3 - Part 1: The Apology

Weiss had rehearsed the apology a dozen times as she walked through Beacon's corridors, each version sounding more inadequate than the last. How did you apologize for destroying someone's spirit? How did you take back words that had clearly changed how someone moved through the world?

She had checked the library, the dining hall, and even the training rooms before remembering that Team JNPR's dorm was on the floor above theirs. The walk up the stairs felt like a death march, each step heavier than the last. Ruby's disappointed face flashed in her mind, followed by Yang's ultimatum and Blake's quiet judgment.

She had to make this right. She owed Jaune that much, and she owed it to her team.

The hallway was quiet when she reached JNPR's floor, late afternoon sunlight streaming through the tall windows and casting long shadows across the polished floor. She could hear muffled voices from behind their door—Nora's energetic chatter and Ren's occasional calm responses. Taking a deep breath, she raised her hand and knocked.

The voices inside quieted, and after a moment, the door opened to reveal Jaune. He looked surprised to see her, but not hostile—just carefully neutral in the way she had become accustomed to over the past week.

"Weiss," he said politely. "Is everything okay? Do you need something?"

The formal tone stung more than she had expected. This was how he spoke to professors or acquaintances, not friends. Not people he had once cared about.

"I..." She faltered, suddenly aware of how public the hallway was. "Could we talk? Privately?"

Jaune hesitated, glancing back into his room where she could see Pyrrha reading on her bed. "Sure. Let me just grab something."

He stepped back into the room briefly, and Weiss heard him say something to his teammates before returning to the hallway, pulling the door closed behind him. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed but not defensively—more like someone trying to maintain a comfortable distance.

"What did you want to talk about?"

The words she had practiced suddenly felt clumsy and insufficient. "I wanted to apologize. For what I said in the library. I was... I was harsher than I should have been."

Jaune was quiet for a long moment, studying her face with those blue eyes that seemed older than they had been two weeks ago. "You don't need to apologize, Weiss."

"Yes, I do. What I said was cruel and—"

"What you said was right." His voice was calm, matter-of-fact. "I should have gotten the hint earlier. You made it clear you weren't interested, and I kept pushing anyway. That wasn't fair to you."

Weiss blinked in surprise. This wasn't how she had expected the conversation to go. "Jaune, no, that's not—"

"It is, though." He straightened up from the wall, but kept that careful distance between them. "I was so focused on what I wanted that I didn't really consider how uncomfortable I was making you. Ruby helped me see that, actually. She asked me how I would feel if someone kept asking me out after I'd said no, and..." He shrugged. "I realized I'd been kind of selfish."

"You weren't selfish," Weiss said quickly. "You were being kind. Bringing soup when Ruby was sick, offering to help with homework—that wasn't selfish, that was just you being... you."

"Being me got you so frustrated that you had to humiliate me publicly to get me to stop." There was no bitterness in his voice, just resigned acceptance. "I mean, you were stressed about other things too, I'm sure, but I was the one who pushed you to that point."

The casual way he dismissed his own worth made something ache in Weiss's chest. "Jaune, what I said about you being pathetic and disgusting—that was wrong. You're not those things. You're kind and loyal and—"

"It's okay, Weiss." He held up a hand to stop her. "Really. I'm not angry about it anymore. You were honest about how you felt, and I needed to hear it. I just... I needed some time to process it, you know?"

The hallway fell silent except for the distant sounds of other students moving through the building. Weiss felt like she was missing something important, like there was a conversation happening beneath the words they were saying.

"I want things to go back to normal," she said finally. "Between us, I mean. And with the team."

Jaune nodded slowly. "Yeah, I've been thinking about that too. I know I've been making things weird for you and Ruby and everyone. That wasn't fair either."

"You haven't been making things weird—"

"I have, though. I've been avoiding you, which means I've been cautious around all of you." He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that reminded her of the old Jaune—less guarded, more open. "Look, I can't just flip a switch and go back to how things were before. But I can stop making everyone else uncomfortable because of my own issues."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I'll stop avoiding group conversations. I'll sit with you guys at lunch if there's room. I'll be normal and friendly." He paused, meeting her eyes directly for the first time since the library incident. "But I'm going to keep some distance, Weiss. Not because I'm angry, but because I need to. For both of us."

Weiss felt a strange pang at his words, though she couldn't quite identify why. "That's... that's fair, I suppose."

"Good." Jaune straightened up, and for a moment his smile was almost like his old one—warm and genuine, if a bit more reserved. "Actually, wait here for a second. I have something for you."

He disappeared back into his room, leaving Weiss standing alone in the hallway. She could hear muffled conversation from inside—Jaune's voice, then Pyrrha's, though she couldn't make out the words.

When he returned, he was holding a single white lily, its petals perfect and pristine.

"I bought this a few days ago," he said, offering it to her with a slightly embarrassed smile. "I was going to give it to you as like... a peace offering? I know white lilies mean rebirth and new beginnings, and I thought maybe..." He shrugged. "It seemed appropriate."

Weiss took the flower carefully, surprised by the gesture. The lily was beautiful, and clearly fresh—he must have been taking care of it while waiting for the right moment to approach her.

"Jaune, this is lovely, but you didn't need to—"

"I wanted to," he said simply. "Look, I don't want there to be bad blood between us. We're going to be at this school together for years, and our teams work together all the time. I'd rather have a friendly acquaintance than an enemy."

A friendly acquaintance. The words shouldn't have stung, but they did. When had she become someone who would be grateful for Jaune Arc's casual friendship instead of taking it for granted?

"Thank you," she said, holding the lily close. "For the flower, and for... for being more mature about this than I was."

"We all make mistakes," Jaune said with a shrug. "The important thing is learning from them, right?"

Inside the room, Weiss could hear movement—someone getting up from a bed, footsteps moving closer to the door. Jaune glanced back, then looked at her again.

"I should get back. Pyrrha and I were working on some Combat strategies for next week's exercises."

"Of course. I should go too."

They stood there for a moment longer, the conversation feeling both resolved and somehow incomplete. Finally, Jaune gave her a small nod.

"I'll see you around, Weiss. And thanks for... for coming to talk to me. I know it wasn't easy."

He went back into his room, closing the door gently behind him. Weiss stood in the empty hallway for a moment, turning the white lily over in her hands. She had gotten what she came for—an end to the tension, a return to civility, a promise that things would be less awkward for everyone.

So why did she feel like she had lost something instead of gained it?

Inside the JNPR dorm room, Pyrrha Nikos sat on her bed with a book in her lap, though she hadn't turned a page in the last ten minutes. She had heard every word of the conversation through the door, and her heart was beating faster with each passing moment.

She had watched Jaune struggle over the past two weeks, seen him question his own worth and value because of Weiss's cruel words. She had wanted to comfort him, to tell him how wrong Weiss had been, but she had held back—partly out of respect for his need to process things on his own, and partly out of her own cowardice.

But listening to him just now, hearing him speak with such maturity and grace about someone who had hurt him so deeply, only reinforced what she had known for months.

She was completely, utterly in love with Jaune Arc.

And if Weiss Schnee was fool enough to let him go, then Pyrrha wasn't going to make the same mistake.

"Everything okay?" Jaune asked as he came back into the room, settling back down at his desk.

"Fine," Pyrrha said, closing her book and looking at him with new determination. "Actually, Jaune? Could we talk later? After dinner, maybe? There's something I've been wanting to discuss with you."

Jaune looked up from his homework with mild curiosity. "Sure, Pyrrha. Everything alright?"

"Everything's perfect," she said, her heart racing with the decision she had just made. "I just... I think it's time I was honest about something."

Back in Team RWBY's dorm room, Weiss found her teammates scattered around the room in various states of evening relaxation. Ruby was cleaning Crescent Rose with her usual meticulous care, Blake was reading in her bed, and Yang was doing some kind of complicated stretching routine.

"So?" Yang asked without looking up from her position. "How did it go?"

Weiss sat on her own bed, still holding the white lily. "It went... well, I think. We talked. He accepted my apology."

"Really?" Ruby looked up from her weapon, eyes bright with hope. "So things are going to go back to normal?"

"Not exactly." Weiss touched the lily's petals gently. "He said he'd stop avoiding group situations, but he wants to keep some distance between us. Which is... understandable, I suppose."

Blake looked up from her book. "How do you feel about that?"

It was a simple question, but Weiss found herself struggling to answer. How did she feel about Jaune's polite acceptance, his mature forgiveness, his promise to be a friendly acquaintance?

"I feel like I got what I set out for," she said finally.

Yang finally looked at her, something sharp and assessing in her expression. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I was cruel to someone who didn't necessarily deserve it." Weiss lay back on her bed, holding the lily up to catch the light from the window. "He gave me this. Said it was a peace offering."

"That's very sweet of him," Ruby said softly. "White lilies are pretty."

"They mean rebirth and new beginnings," Weiss murmured, remembering Jaune's explanation.

"Sounds like he's trying to start fresh," Blake observed. "That's probably healthy for both of you."

Weiss nodded, though something in her chest felt tight and uncomfortable. She should be relieved. The tension was resolved, her teammates would be happy, and Jaune would stop making things awkward for everyone.

She had gotten exactly what she wanted.

So why did the thought of being Jaune's "friendly acquaintance" make her feel so empty?

Chapter Text

Chapter 3 - Part 2: Too Late

Weiss had barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she heard Jaune's voice saying "What you said was right" with that terrible acceptance, as if he had internalized every cruel word she had thrown at him. The white lily sat in a glass of water on her nightstand, its pristine petals catching the morning light, but instead of the peace offering Jaune had intended, it felt like a reminder of everything she had gotten wrong.

She had apologized for being harsh, but she had let him walk away thinking he deserved it. That his feelings had been pathetic, that his kindness had been unwelcome, that somehow he had been at fault for her cruelty.

That wasn't right. That wasn't what she had meant at all.

By the time her teammates began stirring for breakfast, Weiss was already dressed and pacing the small confines of their dorm room.

"Weiss?" Ruby mumbled sleepily from her bed. "What time is it? Why are you up so early?"

"I need to talk to Jaune again," Weiss said, still pacing. "Yesterday's conversation... I didn't say what I needed to say."

Yang sat up, her golden hair a messy halo around her head. "What do you mean? I thought you said it went well."

"It did, but..." Weiss paused, trying to find the right words. "He thinks what I said was justified. He thinks he deserved to be humiliated because he didn't take a hint. That's not... that's not right."

Blake was awake now too, watching Weiss with sharp amber eyes. "So you want to tell him what, exactly?"

"The truth. That he didn't deserve what I said to him. That his feelings weren't pathetic, just... inconvenient for me." Weiss stopped pacing and faced her teammates. "I was stressed and overwhelmed, and I took it out on someone who was only ever kind to me. He needs to know that."

"That's... actually really mature of you," Yang said, looking surprised. "Most people would just let sleeping dogs lie."

"I can't," Weiss said simply. "Not when he's walking around thinking he was at fault for my mistakes."

After a quick breakfast, Weiss made her way to the JNPR dormitory. The morning sun was streaming through the corridor windows, and she could hear the distant sounds of students beginning their day. When she knocked on the door, it was Ren who answered, looking as composed as always despite the early hour.

"Good morning, Weiss," he said politely. "Are you looking for someone?"

"Is Jaune available? I wanted to speak with him."

Ren glanced back into the room, then shook his head. "He and Pyrrha went up to the roof about an hour ago for some extra sparring practice. They've been doing that more often lately—working on their combat coordination."

"The roof? Which access point?"

"The eastern stairwell should get you there fastest," Ren said, then paused. "Is everything alright? You seem... determined."

"Just something I need to clear up," Weiss said, already turning toward the stairwell. "Thank you, Ren."

The climb to the roof was longer than she had anticipated, and by the time she reached the heavy door that led outside, she was slightly out of breath. She could hear the sound of weapons clashing beyond the door—the ring of metal on metal, punctuated by the occasional call of encouragement or instruction.

Weiss pushed the door open carefully, stepping out onto the rooftop training area. The morning air was crisp and cool, and the view of Beacon's grounds spread out below them was breathtaking. But her attention was immediately drawn to the two figures sparring in the center of the space.

Jaune and Pyrrha moved together with a fluid grace that spoke of hours of practice. Jaune's swordwork had improved dramatically since his early days at Beacon, and while he still wasn't at Pyrrha's level, he was holding his own admirably. Pyrrha, for her part, seemed to be pushing him just hard enough to challenge him without overwhelming him.

"Better," Pyrrha called out as they separated, both breathing hard. "Your footwork is much more stable now. Try the sequence again, but this time—"

She was interrupted as Jaune stumbled slightly, overbalancing from his last attack. Pyrrha immediately stepped forward to steady him, her hands catching his arms as he regained his footing.

"Thanks," Jaune said with a slightly embarrassed smile. "Still working on that dismount."

"You're improving every day," Pyrrha said, and there was something in her voice—something soft and warm that made Weiss pause before announcing her presence.

The two stood there for a moment, Pyrrha's hands still on Jaune's arms, both of them breathing hard from their sparring session. The morning light caught in Pyrrha's red hair, making it shine like fire, and there was something in her expression that Weiss had never seen before—a tenderness that went far beyond friendship or partnership.

"Jaune," Pyrrha said suddenly, her voice quiet but carrying clearly in the morning air. "There's something I need to tell you."

Weiss froze, instinctively stepping back behind a ventilation unit. She should announce herself, should interrupt this private moment, but something in Pyrrha's tone made her hesitate.

"What is it?" Jaune asked, tilting his head with that familiar curiosity.

Pyrrha took a deep breath, her hands falling away from his arms. "I've been thinking about our conversation yesterday. About what happened with Weiss, and about... about other things."

"Okay," Jaune said carefully. "What kind of other things?"

"About us. About how I feel about you." Pyrrha's voice was steady, but Weiss could see her hands trembling slightly. "Jaune, I've been watching you blame yourself for what happened, watching you think you're not worth someone's affection, and I can't... I can't stay quiet anymore."

Jaune's expression shifted to one of confusion mixed with dawning realization. "Pyrrha..."

"I'm in love with you," she said simply, the words carrying across the rooftop like a declaration. "I have been for months. And watching Weiss treat you like your feelings were something disgusting and pathetic... it's been killing me, because they're not. Your feelings, your heart, your capacity to care about people—none of that is pathetic."

Weiss felt like the ground had dropped out from under her. She pressed herself further back against the ventilation unit, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure they would hear it.

"You're kind and brave and determined," Pyrrha continued, stepping closer to Jaune. "You make me laugh when I'm having a bad day. You see me as just Pyrrha, not the champion or the girl on the cereal boxes. You're everything I never knew I wanted in a partner."

Jaune stood frozen, his blue eyes wide with shock. "Pyrrha, I... I had no idea."

"I know. I've been too much of a coward to say anything because I thought..." She laughed, but there was no humor in it. "I thought you only had eyes for her. But she threw that away. She made you think that wanting to be loved was something to be ashamed of, and I won't stand for that anymore."

"I don't know what to say," Jaune said softly.

"You don't have to say anything right now," Pyrrha replied, though Weiss could hear the hope and fear warring in her voice. "I just needed you to know that you are wanted. That you are valued. That someone sees all the wonderful things about you that she was too blind to appreciate."

There was a long silence, broken only by the distant sounds of Beacon waking up around them. Weiss found herself holding her breath, waiting for Jaune's response.

"Pyrrha," he said finally, his voice wondering. "I... you're incredible. You're brilliant and strong and beautiful, and you've been nothing but patient with me from day one."

"But?" Pyrrha's voice was small, preparing for rejection.

"But nothing," Jaune said, stepping closer to her. "I think... I think I've been an idiot. Chasing after someone who made it clear she didn't want me when someone amazing was right there all along."

Weiss felt something crack inside her chest—not the hollow ache she had been carrying, but something sharper and more immediate.

"Are you saying...?" Pyrrha's voice was breathless with hope.

"I'm saying that maybe it's time I stopped looking backwards and started looking forward," Jaune said, reaching up to touch her cheek gently. "I'm saying that I'd like to try, if you'll have me. If you're willing to be patient while I figure out how to be the kind of person you deserve."

"Oh, Jaune." Pyrrha's voice was thick with emotion. "You already are."

Weiss watched as they moved closer together, saw the moment when Jaune leaned down and Pyrrha rose up on her toes, their lips meeting in a soft, tentative kiss that spoke of new beginnings and infinite possibilities.

When they broke apart, they were both smiling—soft, private smiles meant only for each other.

"I can't believe I almost missed this," Jaune said quietly, his forehead resting against Pyrrha's.

"You didn't miss it," Pyrrha replied, her hands coming up to frame his face. "We're here now. That's what matters."

"I should tell Ren and Nora," Jaune said, though he made no move to step away from her. "They'll be insufferable about this. I think Nora's been trying to set us up for months."

"Let them be insufferable," Pyrrha laughed, the sound bright and joyful. "I'm too happy to care."

Weiss remained frozen behind the ventilation unit as they gathered their weapons and headed toward the roof access door, still talking quietly to each other with the easy intimacy of people who had just discovered they were on the same page. She waited until their footsteps faded completely before finally moving, her legs unsteady beneath her.

The conversation she had come here to have—about Jaune's worth, about her mistakes, about making sure he knew he hadn't deserved her cruelty—suddenly seemed pointless. He had found someone who would tell him all of those things and mean them in ways Weiss never could.

She made her way slowly back down the stairs, her mind reeling. By the time she reached her own dormitory, her teammates were already gone—probably at breakfast or morning classes. She sat heavily on her bed, staring at the white lily on her nightstand.

Rebirth. New beginnings.

For Jaune and Pyrrha, maybe. But what did that leave for her?

She had come to correct Jaune's perception of himself, to make sure he knew his worth. Instead, she had watched someone else do exactly that—someone who had the right to say those words because they came from a place of love rather than guilt.

The white lily seemed to mock her with its perfection, a peace offering from someone who had already moved on while she was still trying to figure out what she had lost.

For the first time since this whole mess had started, Weiss allowed herself to wonder if the hollow ache in her chest might be something more complicated than guilt.

But it was too late to explore that possibility now.

Far too late.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: Dance Preparations

The announcement about the Beacon Dance came three days after Jaune and Pyrrha had become official, and Weiss had spent every one of those days watching their relationship bloom from a distance. It was impossible to avoid—they were everywhere together, holding hands in the hallways, sharing quiet conversations over meals, practicing dance steps in empty classrooms after hours. Their happiness seemed to radiate from them like warmth from a fire she could no longer approach.

"So, who's everyone going with?" Yang asked during lunch, her usual enthusiasm cranked up to eleven as she bounced in her seat. "Blake's got that mysterious smile thing going on, so I'm guessing someone already asked her."

Blake's cheeks turned slightly pink as she tried to hide behind her book. "Sun asked me yesterday after Combat Class."

"I knew it!" Yang grinned triumphantly. "You two have been doing that adorable awkward flirting thing for weeks. It was about time he worked up the courage."

"What about you?" Ruby asked, looking up from her sandwich. "I bet tons of guys have asked you."

"A few," Yang said with a casual shrug. "But I'm actually thinking of going solo. Well, sort of solo." She turned to Ruby with a mischievous grin. "I was thinking maybe my baby sister would like a dance partner who won't judge her if she steps on some toes?"

Ruby's face went bright red. "Yang, no! That's weird! You can't take your sister to a dance!"

"Why not? We'll have fun! We can make fun of all the couples doing their sappy romantic stuff, eat way too much of the fancy food, and I can make sure nobody gives you grief if you want to try dancing with someone."

"I don't want to dance with anyone," Ruby protested, but there was something wistful in her voice.

"Come on, Rubes. When's the next time you're going to get to dress up all fancy and eat tiny sandwiches that probably cost more than our textbooks?" Yang's expression softened. "Besides, if you decide you want to dance with some cute guy, I can disappear and let you have some fun. But if you get nervous or someone's being a creep, big sister's got your back."

Ruby considered this, absently shredding her napkin. "You promise you won't be weird about it? Like, if I do want to dance with someone?"

"Cross my heart. I'll be the coolest, most supportive wingwoman you've ever seen."

"Okay," Ruby said finally, a small smile breaking through her embarrassment. "That... actually sounds kind of fun."

The attention turned to Weiss, who had been quietly eating her salad while her teammates made their plans. She looked up to find three pairs of eyes watching her expectantly.

"What about you, Ice Queen?" Yang asked. "Surely you've got boys lining up around the block."

Weiss carefully cut her apple into precise pieces, avoiding their gazes. The truth was, she had been expecting exactly that. Every previous formal event she had attended had resulted in multiple invitations, sometimes to the point where she had to politely turn down perfectly acceptable partners simply because she couldn't attend with all of them.

This time, however, her dance card remained stubbornly empty.

"I'm sure someone will ask," she said with more confidence than she felt.

"Of course they will," Ruby said loyally. "You're like, super pretty and smart and elegant and—"

"And have the social warmth of a glacier lately," Yang muttered under her breath, earning herself a sharp look from Blake.

But as the days passed, Weiss began to realize that Yang's assessment might be more accurate than she'd cared to admit. Boys who had previously lingered after class to make conversation now packed up quickly and left. Study groups that had once eagerly included her were suddenly "full" when she inquired about joining. Even casual interactions felt strained, as if people were walking on eggshells around her.

It was during Professor Port's Grimm Studies class that she finally understood why.

"—and that's why understanding pack behavior is crucial for any Huntsman," Port was saying, his mustache bristling with enthusiasm. "Miss Schnee, perhaps you could tell us about the social dynamics of Beowolf packs?"

As Weiss began her answer, she noticed two second-year boys in the back row exchange glances. One leaned over to whisper something to his partner, and she caught the words "—heard what she said to Arc—" and "—wouldn't want to end up like him—"

The realization hit her like a physical blow. Word had spread about the library incident, but not just as gossip—as a warning. She had become a cautionary tale, the girl who would humiliate you publicly if you dared to show interest.

After class, she lingered, hoping to catch one of the boys who had been whispering, but they were already gone. Instead, she found herself walking out behind two first-year girls who were discussing the upcoming dance.

"I still can't believe what happened to that Jaune guy," one was saying. "I mean, I know he's not the most skilled fighter, but he seems nice enough."

"From what I heard, she absolutely destroyed him," her friend replied. "Called him disgusting and pathetic in front of everyone. Can you imagine?"

"No wonder everyone's avoiding her now. I mean, she's pretty, but who wants to risk that kind of humiliation?"

Weiss quickened her pace, but their words followed her down the hallway like accusations.

That evening, while her teammates excitedly discussed their dance plans, Weiss found herself unable to concentrate on her textbook. Instead, she kept thinking about Jaune and Pyrrha, who she had seen earlier that day sharing lunch together in the courtyard. Pyrrha had been laughing at something Jaune said, her face bright with joy, while Jaune looked more confident and at ease than Weiss had ever seen him.

They looked... right together. Natural. Complete.

The thought made her stomach twist in ways she didn't want to examine too closely.

"You know," Yang said one evening as they were getting ready for bed, "the dance is next week, and I haven't heard you mention anyone asking you."

"I'm sure someone will," Weiss replied automatically, though the words felt increasingly hollow each time she said them.

Blake looked up from her book with gentle concern. "Maybe you should ask someone yourself. There's nothing wrong with taking the initiative."

The idea had actually occurred to Weiss, but every time she considered approaching someone, she remembered those whispered conversations about her reputation. Who would want to risk being seen with the Ice Queen who had publicly humiliated the last boy who'd shown interest in her?

Still, as the days ticked by and her dance card remained empty, desperation began to set in. She found herself paying more attention to the boys in her classes, trying to identify someone who might be approachable. Someone who might not have heard the stories, or who might be willing to overlook them.

Her opportunity came during a joint exercise with Team SSSN, when she found herself partnered with Neptune Vasilias. He was handsome, charming, and seemed to genuinely enjoy their conversation during the mission briefing. More importantly, he was from Haven Academy originally—maybe he hadn't heard about her reputation yet.

"You know," she said as casually as she could manage after they had successfully completed their objective, "the dance is coming up this weekend."

"Yeah, should be fun," Neptune replied, adjusting his goggles with his usual cool confidence. "Sun's been talking about it nonstop. Apparently he finally worked up the courage to ask Blake."

"What about you? Do you have a date?"

Neptune glanced at her, and for a moment, Weiss thought she saw something like understanding in his expression. "Actually, no. I was planning on going stag."

"Oh." Weiss felt her heart sink slightly. "Well, if you change your mind and want company—"

"It's not that I don't want company," Neptune interrupted gently. "It's that I'm planning to hang out with all the other singles at the dance. You know, make sure nobody feels left out, keep the wallflowers company, that kind of thing."

"I see." The rejection was polite, but it still stung.

Neptune studied her face for a moment, his expression surprisingly perceptive. "Weiss, can I give you some advice?"

She nodded, not trusting her voice.

"I've heard some of the talk around campus. About what happened with Jaune." When Weiss tensed, he held up a hand. "I'm not judging—we all say things we regret when we're stressed. But maybe... maybe you need to figure out why you're really asking me to this dance. Because from where I'm standing, it seems like you're asking because you don't want to be alone, not because you actually want to go with me."

The words hit closer to home than Weiss cared to admit. "That's not—"

"It's okay," Neptune said kindly. "But I think maybe you should spend the evening figuring out what you actually want, instead of just trying to avoid what you don't want."

That night, as she lay in bed listening to her teammates chatter excitedly about their dance preparations, Weiss finally admitted the truth to herself.

She was going to the dance alone.

The next few days brought a parade of happy couples making final preparations around her. Ruby had overcome her nervousness and was actually looking forward to going with Yang, especially after Yang had promised to teach her some basic dance steps. Blake and Sun were adorably awkward together, with Sun constantly trying to impress her and Blake pretending not to be charmed by his efforts.

And everywhere Weiss looked, she saw Jaune and Pyrrha together—discussing what colors would complement each other, practicing their dancing in the empty common rooms, sharing the quiet excitement of two people experiencing their first real relationship.

"You sure you're okay going alone?" Ruby asked on the morning of the dance, her concern genuine. "I mean, Yang could probably find you a date if you want. She knows tons of people."

"I'm fine, Ruby," Weiss said, though the words felt more brittle each time she repeated them. "I prefer to keep my options open anyway."

But even as she said it, she knew she was lying. She wasn't keeping her options open—she had systematically closed them all through her own actions. The dance was that evening, and she would be attending alone, watching from the sidelines as everyone else celebrated with their chosen partners.

For the first time in her life, Weiss Schnee was genuinely afraid of how that would feel.

And worse, she was beginning to suspect she knew exactly why it terrified her so much.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: The Dance

The Beacon Dance was everything Weiss had expected it to be—elegant, sophisticated, and absolutely magical. The ballroom had been transformed with hanging crystals that cast rainbow patterns across the walls, soft lighting that made everything glow with warmth, and flowers that filled the air with their sweet fragrance. Students moved across the polished floor in their finest attire, laughter mixing with the gentle orchestral music to create an atmosphere of pure joy.

Weiss stood at the edge of it all, watching.

She had chosen her dress carefully—a flowing gown of pale blue that complemented her eyes and hair, with delicate silver embroidery that caught the light when she moved. She looked beautiful, she knew that. Several people had complimented her appearance when she'd first arrived. But compliments from acquaintances couldn't fill the empty space around her where friends and partners should have been.

Near the refreshment table, she could see Neptune holding court with a small group of other single students—a mix of first and second years who either hadn't found dates or had chosen to come alone. He caught her eye across the room and gave her a small nod of acknowledgment, but made no move to approach. True to his word, he was spending his evening making sure the wallflowers felt included, rotating between dance partners and keeping conversations light and fun.

"Weiss!" Ruby's voice cut through the music as she bounced over, practically glowing in her red dress that Yang had helped her pick out. "You look amazing! That dress is so pretty!"

"Thank you," Weiss managed a smile. "You look lovely too. Are you having fun?"

"Oh my gosh, yes! Yang taught me how to do this spinning thing, and I only stepped on her feet twice!" Ruby's enthusiasm was infectious, and despite everything, Weiss felt herself smiling genuinely for the first time all evening. "She's over there challenging some second-years to a dance-off. I think she's winning."

Weiss followed Ruby's gesture to see Yang indeed engaged in what appeared to be an increasingly elaborate display of dance moves, her golden hair flying as she spun and dipped with theatrical flair. The crowd around her was cheering and laughing, and Yang was clearly in her element.

"What about you?" Ruby asked, looking around. "Where's your date? I thought you were going to ask someone?"

The reminder stung, but Weiss kept her expression neutral. "I decided I'd rather just enjoy the evening without worrying about a partner."

Ruby's face fell slightly, and Weiss could see her younger teammate trying to process this. Ruby had never been good at hiding her emotions, and right now she looked confused and a little sad.

"Are you sure you're okay? You seem kind of..." Ruby trailed off, clearly not wanting to say anything hurtful.

"I'm fine, Ruby." The sharpness in her voice made Ruby step back, and Weiss immediately felt guilty. "I'm sorry. I just... I want you to go have fun. Don't worry about me."

Ruby hesitated, clearly wanting to say more, but Yang appeared at her elbow, slightly out of breath from her impromptu dance battle.

"Hey, Ice Queen! You look gorgeous," Yang said, then turned to Ruby. "Come on, sis, they're about to start the partner dancing, and I promised to show you that waltz step."

Ruby shot Weiss one more concerned look before allowing Yang to lead her back onto the dance floor. Weiss watched them go, noting how Yang's protective instincts extended even to making sure Ruby felt confident and included at her first formal dance.

Weiss retreated further into the shadows along the wall, trying to make herself invisible. From her vantage point, she could see everything—Yang patiently guiding Ruby through the steps of a simple waltz, both sisters laughing when Ruby stumbled but recovering gracefully; Blake moving with elegant grace beside Sun, who was trying his best to match her sophisticated steps while cracking jokes that made her smile; Neptune smoothly transitioning between different dance partners, making sure everyone in his little group felt included and valued.

And there, in the center of it all, were Jaune and Pyrrha.

Pyrrha looked radiant in a form-fitting emerald dress that brought out her eyes, her red hair styled in an elegant updo that showed off her graceful neck. But it was Jaune who made Weiss's breath catch in her throat. Gone was the awkward boy who used to stumble over his own feet. In a perfectly tailored black suit, he moved with surprising confidence, leading Pyrrha through the steps with an easy grace that spoke of hours of practice.

He looked... handsome. Really handsome. When had that happened?

"They make a beautiful couple, don't they?"

Weiss turned to find Professor Goodwitch standing beside her, also watching the dancing couples with a small smile.

"Yes," Weiss said quietly. "They do."

"Mr. Arc has improved remarkably, both as a fighter and as a young man. Miss Nikos has been good for him." Goodwitch's sharp eyes flicked to Weiss. "Though I suspect he might have found his confidence eventually. Some people just need the right person to help them see their own worth."

There was something pointed in the professor's tone that made Weiss wonder if she knew about the library incident. Probably—news traveled fast at Beacon, especially when it involved public humiliation.

"I suppose," Weiss murmured.

"Are you enjoying the dance, Miss Schnee?"

The question was simple, but Weiss found herself unable to answer. How could she explain that she was simultaneously entranced and tortured by the evening? That every smile, every laugh, every romantic gesture she witnessed felt like a reminder of her own isolation?

"It's lovely," she said instead.

Goodwitch studied her for a moment, then nodded curtly and moved away to supervise other areas of the ballroom. Weiss was alone again, watching other people's happiness from the sidelines.

The evening progressed in a blur of music and movement. Weiss danced a few obligatory numbers with professors and Neptune's rotating group of singles, but mostly she remained on the periphery, nursing a glass of punch that had long since gone warm. She told herself she was people-watching, analyzing social dynamics, studying the intricate steps of the more complex dances.

She was lying to herself, and she knew it. She was watching Jaune.

He was everything she had never seen in him before—confident, charming, attentive. When Pyrrha's shoe came undone, he knelt gracefully to fix it without missing a beat in their conversation. When she looked tired, he immediately suggested they sit and brought her refreshments. When other boys asked her to dance, he stepped aside with good humor and watched proudly as she moved with her natural athletic grace.

This was the boy she had called pathetic and disgusting. This was the young man whose feelings she had dismissed so cruelly.

At one point, Yang appeared beside her again, flushed and happy from dancing.

"Having fun being antisocial?" Yang asked, though her tone was more concerned than teasing.

"I'm observing," Weiss replied, not taking her eyes off the dance floor.

"Uh-huh." Yang followed her gaze to where Jaune and Pyrrha were swaying slowly to a romantic ballad. "Ah. I see what you're observing."

"I don't know what you mean."

Yang moved to partially block Weiss's view, forcing her to make eye contact. "Weiss, talk to me. What's really going on?"

For a moment, Weiss wavered. The words were right there, the confession of her growing realization, her regret, her confusion about feelings she didn't understand. But admitting the truth would mean facing things she wasn't ready to confront.

"Nothing's going on. I'm simply not in a social mood tonight."

Yang stared at her for a long moment, then shook her head. "You know what? Fine. Stay over here and torture yourself if that's what you want. But don't expect me to feel sorry for you when you're doing this to yourself."

Yang returned to Ruby, who was now attempting to teach Sun some of the steps Yang had shown her. Weiss was alone again, more isolated than ever.

As the evening wore on, couples began to pair off for the final slow dances of the night. The lights dimmed further, and the music took on a dreamy, romantic quality that made the entire ballroom feel like something out of a fairy tale.

Weiss found herself drawn back to watching Jaune and Pyrrha. They were dancing close now, Pyrrha's head resting on Jaune's shoulder, his arms wrapped securely around her waist. They moved together as if they'd been dancing like this for years, completely lost in each other.

As the song reached its climax, Jaune pulled back slightly to look down at Pyrrha. Even from her distant position, Weiss could see the love and adoration in his expression as he gazed at the girl in his arms. Pyrrha looked up at him with equal devotion, her hand coming up to touch his cheek gently.

They were going to kiss. Weiss could see it in their body language, in the way they leaned toward each other, in the soft intimacy of the moment.

She should look away. She should give them privacy, should stop torturing herself with this display of everything she had lost. Instead, she found herself frozen, unable to tear her eyes away from the scene unfolding before her.

Jaune leaned down, Pyrrha rose up on her toes, and their lips met in a soft, tender kiss that spoke of new love and infinite possibilities. Around them, other couples continued to dance, but they seemed to exist in their own private world.

When they finally broke apart, they were both smiling—soft, private smiles meant only for each other. Jaune said something that made Pyrrha laugh quietly, and she buried her face against his chest in shy happiness.

That was when it hit Weiss like a physical blow—not just the sight of their happiness, but the sudden, overwhelming realization of what she was feeling.

Jealousy. Pure, burning jealousy that had nothing to do with social expectations or dance partners and everything to do with the boy who was holding another girl like she was the most precious thing in the world.

The boy she had driven away with her cruelty. The boy who had seen something worth loving in her and had been rejected so thoroughly that he'd found that love elsewhere.

The boy she was falling for just as he was falling for someone else.

Across the room, she could see Yang and Ruby laughing together as Yang spun her sister dramatically, their bond as sisters allowing them to have their own perfect evening without needing romantic partners. She could see Blake and Sun stealing quiet moments between dances, their new relationship sweet and tentative. She could see Neptune making sure a shy first-year girl felt included in his group, his kindness extending to everyone around him.

And she could see Jaune and Pyrrha, lost in their own world of newfound love and happiness.

Everyone had exactly what they needed. Everyone except her.

Weiss pressed a hand to her mouth, horrified by the tears that were suddenly threatening to spill over. She couldn't break down here, not in front of everyone, not when she had no right to these feelings.

She turned and fled the ballroom, her heels clicking against the marble floor as she practically ran through the corridors of Beacon. She didn't stop until she reached one of the empty balconies overlooking the courtyard, where she finally allowed herself to collapse onto a stone bench.

The night air was cool against her flushed cheeks, and the sounds of the dance were muted by distance and stone walls. Here, finally, she could breathe.

Here, she could admit the truth to herself.

She had fallen in love with Jaune Arc—kind, determined, loyal Jaune who had seen something worth pursuing in her despite all her walls and defenses. And she had destroyed any chance of happiness with him through her own pride and cruelty.

The worst part was that she couldn't even hate Pyrrha for it. Pyrrha, who had seen Jaune's worth when Weiss had been too blind to appreciate it. Pyrrha, who had defended him when Weiss had torn him down. Pyrrha, who loved him the way he deserved to be loved.

Weiss sat alone on the balcony as the dance continued without her, finally understanding the full weight of her choices. She had gotten exactly what she thought she wanted—Jaune had stopped pursuing her, stopped bothering her with his attention and affection.

She had just never imagined how much she would miss it when it was gone.

In the distance, she could hear the final song of the evening beginning to play, and she knew that somewhere inside, Jaune and Pyrrha were dancing together, lost in their new love and infinite possibilities.

While her teammates enjoyed their perfect evening—Yang and Ruby celebrating their sisterly bond, Blake and Sun exploring their new romance, Neptune spreading joy to everyone around him.

And she sat alone in the darkness, finally understanding what she had thrown away.

The Ice Queen had gotten her wish.

And she had never been more miserable in her life.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6: Confessions

Weiss had been staring at the ceiling for over an hour when she heard the dorm room door creak open. The dance had ended thirty minutes ago, and her teammates were finally returning, their voices carrying the tired but happy exhaustion of a perfect evening.

"—and did you see Sun try to dip Blake? I thought he was going to drop her for sure," Yang was saying with a quiet laugh, mindful of the late hour.

"He did okay," Blake replied, and Weiss could hear the smile in her voice. "Better than I expected, honestly."

"I can't believe I actually enjoyed dancing," Ruby whispered excitedly. "Thanks for making me go, Yang. And for not making it weird."

"Anytime, sis. That's what big sisters are for."

Weiss closed her eyes and tried to regulate her breathing, hoping they would think she was asleep. She wasn't ready to face their questions about why she had disappeared from the dance, wasn't ready to explain the tear stains on her cheeks or the hollow ache in her chest.

She heard her teammates moving quietly around the room, changing out of their formal wear and getting ready for bed. The familiar sounds should have been comforting, but instead they felt like reminders of the normal life she had somehow stepped outside of.

"Weiss?" Yang's voice was soft, barely above a whisper. "You awake?"

Weiss considered pretending to sleep, but something in Yang's tone—gentle, concerned, without any of her usual teasing—made her reconsider.

"Yes," she said quietly.

"You okay? You kind of disappeared from the dance."

There was a pause, and Weiss could sense her other teammates listening even as they continued their quiet preparations for bed.

"I'm fine," Weiss said automatically, then winced at how hollow the words sounded.

"Ruby, Blake," Yang said softly. "Could you give us a minute?"

"Of course," Blake murmured. "We'll be in the bathroom getting ready for bed."

Weiss heard them gather their things and slip out, leaving her alone with Yang. The room fell silent except for the distant sounds of other students returning from the dance, their laughter echoing through the corridors.

Yang's bed creaked as she sat down, and then Weiss felt the mattress dip as Yang perched on the edge of her own bed.

"Talk to me," Yang said simply.

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Weiss." Yang's voice was patient but firm. "I saw you tonight. I saw you watching Jaune and Pyrrha like... like it was physically painful. And then you just vanished."

Weiss finally opened her eyes and turned to look at Yang. In the dim light filtering through their window, she could see her teammate's face—concerned, open, without judgment.

"I made a mistake," Weiss said finally, her voice barely audible.

"What kind of mistake?"

The words stuck in Weiss's throat. How did you admit to something you had barely acknowledged to yourself? How did you confess feelings you didn't even understand?

"I think..." Weiss paused, swallowing hard. "I think I have feelings for Jaune."

Yang was quiet for a long moment, and Weiss braced herself for mockery or an 'I told you so.' Instead, Yang just nodded slowly.

"When did you figure that out?"

"Tonight. Watching him with Pyrrha, I..." Weiss's voice cracked slightly. "I was jealous. Not because I wanted to be at the dance with someone, but because I wanted to be at the dance with him."

"Oh, Weiss."

"I know how it sounds," Weiss said quickly, sitting up in her bed. "I know how pathetic it is to realize you have feelings for someone right after they find happiness with someone else. Trust me, the irony isn't lost on me."

"It's not pathetic," Yang said gently. "It's just... really bad timing."

Weiss let out a bitter laugh. "Bad timing. That's one way to put it." She drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. "Yang, I destroyed him. I called his feelings disgusting and pathetic, and I meant it when I said it. How do you come back from that?"

"You don't," Yang said honestly. "At least, not in the way you're thinking."

The bluntness of the answer hit Weiss like a slap, but she appreciated Yang's honesty more than false comfort.

"He's happy now," Weiss continued, her voice getting smaller. "Really happy. And Pyrrha... she's perfect for him. She sees all the things in him that I was too blind and stupid to appreciate."

"She does," Yang agreed. "And you know what? That's okay. Sometimes we miss our chance, and that's on us."

"How is that okay?" Weiss demanded, some of her old fire returning. "How is any of this okay?"

"Because now you know," Yang said simply. "Now you know what you're capable of feeling, what you actually want in a person. You know what kindness looks like, what it means when someone cares about you without expecting anything in return. That's not nothing, Weiss."

Weiss stared at her teammate, surprised by the unexpected wisdom in Yang's words.

"But Jaune—"

"Jaune is with Pyrrha, and they're happy together. That ship has sailed, and trying to sink it would just make you a terrible person." Yang's voice was firm but not unkind. "But that doesn't mean these feelings are meaningless. They're telling you something important about what you want, what you value."

"What if I don't get another chance?" Weiss asked quietly. "What if I ruined my one shot at... at whatever this could have been?"

Yang was quiet for a moment, considering her words carefully. "Maybe you did. Maybe Jaune was your one chance at that specific kind of happiness. But Weiss, you're seventeen. You've got a whole life ahead of you, full of people you haven't met yet who might surprise you."

"But none of them will be Jaune."

"No," Yang said softly. "They won't be. But maybe some of them will be even better for you than Jaune would have been. Maybe this is teaching you what to look for, what to value in someone."

Weiss felt tears threatening again and wiped at her eyes impatiently. "I just... I keep thinking about all the things he did that I dismissed. The jokes, when I was in a bad mood, and he tried to make me laugh, the way he always asked how my day went, how he remembered things that were important to me. No one's ever cared about me like that before."

"I know," Yang said gently. "And that's exactly why this matters. Because now you know what you're looking for. Now you know not to take that kind of care for granted."

"I feel like such a fool."

"We all play the fool sometimes," Yang said with a small smile. "The trick is learning from it instead of wallowing in it."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, listening to the sounds of Blake and Ruby moving around in the bathroom.

"Yang?" Weiss said finally.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For not saying 'I told you so' or making fun of me for this."

Yang reached over and squeezed Weiss's hand briefly. "Hey, we're teammates. Teammates look out for each other, even when one of them is being an emotionally constipated Ice Queen."

Despite everything, Weiss found herself smiling slightly. "There's the Yang I know."

"I'm still here, just with slightly more emotional intelligence than usual." Yang grinned. "Don't worry, I'll be back to my normal inappropriate self by morning."

As Blake and Ruby returned to the room, moving quietly in deference to the late hour, Weiss felt something loosen in her chest. The hollow ache was still there, and she suspected it would be for a while. But for the first time since the dance, she didn't feel completely alone with it.

She had made a mistake—a big one. She had hurt someone who cared about her, and she had missed her chance at something that might have been wonderful. But Yang was right about one thing: now she knew. Now she understood what she wanted, what she valued, what she would never take for granted again.

It wasn't much, but it was something.

And for tonight, something was enough.

Notes:

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