So…hi, everyone. I know this is sudden and completely out of the blue, but, well, I decided to write a little chapter to this work of mine. I just, I don't know, had this itch to add a little something. To at least show you how his comeback match would go. I mean, there was quite a lot of build up to it, but in the end, neither you or I got to experience it.

And today, I wanted to change that. I mean, I know this isn't much and perhaps I shouldn't have done this at all, but, well, I hope you'll forgive me for doing this. For adding just a bit more to a work which will never be done anyways.

Even if a mistake, hopefully, you'll be able to enjoy this at least a tiny bit.

'Return.'

…

Fear. Anxiety. Excitement. Joy and aplenty more. Jaune's inner world was a mayhem of emotions and memories. Some he remembered with deepest of fondness, others he…They're unpleasant but matter too. He was sure, each new step he made barely echoing. Or maybe they didn't, perhaps he merely remembered the times that they did. The lights above his head were absolutely real though, and it felt so nostalgic.

It all did.

The little crowd surrounding him. Faint whispers among them. Some of their gazes, which were directly pointed at him. The slightly increased, uneven rhythm of his heart or just the way his lips would curl into a smirk the closer he got the ring. It all reminded him of the past, of who he was and how he used to be. However…

"Come on, El Jauney, get inside," His grandfather told him, and Jaune did a brief nod.

…This wasn't a moment from the past. And he was different as well and this evening, he'd find out for sure what exactly that meant.

"That's my leader right there! Whoever he's fighting will be knocked out with a single punch!" Nora exclaimed at the top of her lungs, a firm fist shot up to the ceiling. Her face an embodiment of the words she just said.

Ren smiled to himself. Instead of telling her to calm down a peg, he just smiled and nodded. He's going to win. I'm sure of it as much as you are. He thought to himself, and uncharacteristically to his nature, was feeling impatient. His friend left to him was feeling so too.

"Jaune…" She uttered his name quietly, her heels tapping the floor in a nervous fashion. "You're going to win. I know you will." She was certain, confident and unwavering in her belief. However…I want you to do it in a way which will make you happy. Which will undeniably push your doubts back. She thought as her hands curled into fists. "Make this win count. Prove it to your doubts that they're wrong," She uttered, her expectant emeralds fixed solely on him.

Yang showed a smirk.

"He'll do it alright. That blondey's helluva strong so he'll pull it off in flying colors," She said, and even though redheaded Spartan didn't spare her a glance, she did acknowledge her words.

"Yes. Yes, he will," Pyrrha said, and Yang gazed to him.

You will, blondey. You'll do it, right? Voiceless words gave way to concern, and she pursed her lips tightly. She even clenched her eyebrows when sparing a brief glance at his opponent.

Seventy-seven fights. Seventy wins and sixty-five of them being early stoppages. Sixty of them clean ko's. Most definitely not a record to sneeze at.

But you'll do it, Jaune. You must. For me, and yourself. She hoped from the bottom of her fervently beating heart and locked her eyes solely on him.

"I want a clean fight. Punching up here is allowed. Everything below a waist is a foul…" The referee went on to explain the rules to them, while they continued to intensely peer into each other's eyes.

A maddeningly determined glint. Unblinking, unwavering and confident. Poise tall and chest pushed forward. And he refused to look anywhere but the dead center of his blue.

He's absolutely ready to go. No…more like to win. Jaune could read his opponents face like an open book. And I am too. The storm in his blue was almost tangible, he blinked, and all of a sudden was back to his respective corner.

His grandfather put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. Honestly, he first figured he'd have so much to say. So many words full of meaning to express, a tremendous cocktail of emotions to spill but in the end, he didn't utter a word. Or rather, there's no need to. Adalard thought with absolute certainty. Just one solid gaze into his grandson's eyes and all of the words suddenly felt meaningless. Instead, his last job was to equip his grandson with a headgear and gum shield.

'Ting!'

The bell rang, Adalard lingered just for a moment more, and then stepped out of the ring.

"Watch me closely, old pops," Jaune said, and without sparing a glance, he marched forward. To the center of the ring.

His opponent. He dashed forward in solid speed and cocked his arm back, ready to punch.

'Bang!'

A gunshot-like sound exploded into the air, and a bloody gum shield was violently flung out of the mouth. A motionless body hit the canvas, and aplenty of jaws went agape as it did. Before some even managed to blink, Jaune was already marching back to his corner.

I'm sorry. He thought. But I really have no time to waste. I've got much higher goals to reach and much stronger opponents to face.

Words soundlessly echoed, and the referee soon crossed his arms and signaled the fight was over.