[ She had been prepared to let him go, willing - if not ready - to resign herself to solitude and the dark, to chasing off the best thing in her life out of some high-minded notion that it was best for him. When Jaune stops, he takes that choice from her, his back blurry in her tear-stricken vision.
Her words are hiccuped out, unstrung with brittle emotion. ]
... a little.
[ Bits and pieces spike through the whirl: the sharp, white lights; Yang's pale gold dress; Sousei's smile at the end of their dance. And, always, Jaune at the centre. Holding her hand, dancing with her, walking her home -- ]
Everything from that time feels a bit like a dream.
action.
Her words are hiccuped out, unstrung with brittle emotion. ]
... a little.
[ Bits and pieces spike through the whirl: the sharp, white lights; Yang's pale gold dress; Sousei's smile at the end of their dance. And, always, Jaune at the centre. Holding her hand, dancing with her, walking her home -- ]
Everything from that time feels a bit like a dream.
[ That's something Pyrrha hasn't told anyone yet, not really. ]