A quiet moon moved lazily across the starry sky above the city of Vale. The city stood tall and regal against the stark contrast of the Grimm infested mountains and forests beyond. Vale's air smelled slightly of garbage and disinfectant but every streetlight and lit window shown undiminished, desperately proving that law, order, and technology would persevere over nature and the Grimm. The city, only partially recovered from its frequent terrorist attacks and faunus' rights protests, tiptoed about its nightly business. Shops were closed down, traffic was non-existent save for the few night delivery trucks, and family's tucked themselves in after another long work day.
Hei Xiong, AKA 'Junior', and his popular mobster night club, Junior's Club, were an exception to the night's average decompressing routine. People of all races and stations chose to abandon their secure day personalities in order to dance, drink, and flirt at Junior's Club. Everyone knew that Junior played both sides of the law when it came to his hangout, and everyone respected the Club as a neutral playing field. The universal needs of every bar-crawler, dancer, and extrovert of Vale came alive and to crescendo within his neon walls.
Yang Xiao Long, a tall, blonde, violet-eyed, well muscled, and expertly trained Huntress from Vale's own Beacon Academy, had completely and utterly forgotten about Junior and his Club. He had once been a source of information before White Fang had first mobilized, and now that he held no fresh insights or interest for Yang, it was like he had ceased to exist in her mind. Until, that is, she received a call on her scroll from an unknown number as she was just exiting the shower.
"Blondie, it's Junior." A brutish voice said from the anonymous avatar on Yang's scroll.
Yang blinked. Surprised that Junior was still around. "Junior Xiong!" She exclaimed, mockingly excited.
"Cut the chit-chat." He growled, not one to suffer insults, "I've got a problem at the club that I think you can deal with."
Yang thought about hanging up immediately, but waited for him to continue.
"I hired a new girl, tried to hire her as a bouncer for rowdy customers a few months back. Only had to pay her booze and information." He sounded rushed and a bit desperate. "She got the weirdos and undesirable customers out, but now she's going for more and more of my target audience and she's been drinking more than I thought her little body could handle. A LOT more. And I can't keep paying for this shit. She's too good for me to fire her outright, so I need you to 'take care' of this situation. You understand?"
"This sounds like a YOU-problem." Yang drawled, wringing her hair out with a towel.
"Hey, Smart-ass, I didn't do anything when you wrecked my club the first time you came around looking for Raven, and I still haven't done anything about you shooting open my club doors from last time. You owe me for club damages. LEGALLY owe me for club damages." He said. His use of the term 'legal' might have been a bluff, but his next sentence drove home the importance of this deal he was laying out.
"And the girl I hired was Roman's girl, the one with pink and brown hair."
Yang was dressed and on her motorcycle, 'Bumblebee', faster than she would have liked to admit. She had promised herself, and many many others, that she would be much less brash in her actions, that she would think things out and consider the possible consequences in the future. And as she raced through the cooling night air, she briefly thought of calling her sister, Ruby, as back-up.
After speeding past a delivery truck, she dismissed the idea.
She'd thought about calling for back-up, and that was progress enough for the time being.
Her mind wandered to the bridge between the cold metal and the hot flesh of her bicep as she flew down the high way. The loss of Yang's right arm had hindered her in many ways; physically, until she was given her new robotic arm, and mentally with what the her dad called a traumatic stress disorder. It took weeks for her to find a reason to get up and work at coming back into the real world again. Getting her family and friends back did wonders for building up her confidence, and to those around her, that had been enough. But the thought of fighting Neo Politan, Roman's soundless henchman, brought back her old unencumbered fighting spirit and stubborn pride. She had lost twice to that petite, smirking figure and her shield-like umbrella. And after Neo's disappearance into a swarm of flying Grimm, it was assumed that she was dead, and Yang's opportunity for a rematch was gone forever.
A rematch. Yang hesitated as she parked and locked her Bumblebee. That's where this encounter was headed. Would there be repercussions? Yang wondered. Could she lose the fight? Would she lose anything more? She clenched her metal arm. Hesitation was a side-effect of the traumatic stress, and she loathed her new indecisiveness.
She took several deep breaths and centered herself in the shadows of a streetlight. If there was fight, it would just be a fight; no ulterior motives, no undercover plots. Just an all out brawl with someone of little to no consequence. Someone whose very existence burned at Yang's pride.
She headed into Junior's Club. His club lit up the darkening city, and an exciting beat came from inside the heart of the building, a gift of Hard Bass from a teddy bear-headed disc-jockey. To her surprise, a black-suited club associate bowed and slid open one of the doors for her at the entrance. She heard him talk into his ear piece before closing the door again. If this was a jump on her, Junior was planning it poorly, Yang thought as she sauntered down the neon stairs. The lights were dimmed, but the dance floor lit up and packed with people, humans and faunus alike, who were lost in the rhythm of the bear-headed DJ.
Junior was working behind the bar, but at the sight of her golden lion mane in the crowd he gestured at his second bartender to take his spot. He lured Yang over to the farthest seat at the bar and poured her a drink. When she lifted it to her lips, she found that her cup had just plain water inside.
At her questioning gaze, Junior pursed his lips.
"I need you at your best." He said gruffly.
Unconvinced, Yang set the cup back down and turned to scan the crowd, her ear to Junior for his unofficial briefing.
"She works in the room just off the back wall. It used to be the twin's private entrance to the Club," He said as lowly as he could against the pounding music. "I send unruly customers back to her, and they don't come back. I don't ask what she does or where they go, I'm just trying to run a classy place." He said holding up his hands in defense. Yang snorted at his statement.
"I also send drinks to her, and they don't come back either." He added, humoring Yang in an ingratiating way.
"Where are your bodyguard dolls?" Yang asked, searching the crowd for the frowning black and white dressed twins.
Junior grimaced. "They've been... hosting the target." He replied slowly. At a look from Yang, he held up his hands again. "They're not going to gang up on you, I think. But I can't guarantee that they're entirely on my side in this arrangement."
Yang sighed and rolled her shoulders. "Look, Junior, I know you think I'm no brain and all brawn, but all of this sounds like a trap." To which, Junior pulled out a thick file full of receipts and documents from under the bar.
"THIS is her tab from her first night." He said and pulled out the bottom most receipt.
"Woof." Yang said emphatically, noting the expensive liquors used in each order.
"THESE are the most recent statements and complaints from my target customers," He went on. "And that's nothing to my employee complaints!" He nodded to some black-suited men that were spaced out throughout the room. More than one had bandages and splints over various parts of their bodies. One waved with a cast around his wrist at them.
"I am at the end of my rope here." Junior begged, his face an honest display of stress and exhaustion. Yang felt a bit for the club owner, but was still unconvinced.
Junior read the doubt on her face and scrambled for his scroll and began typing rapidly. "Look, I'll forgive you for the damage to my Club and give you free drinks for a month if you get this done tonight." He held up his scroll for Yang to view, and there it was a message reading 'FREE DRINKS FOR YANG XIAO LONG',with a CC to a long list of colorful names unknown to the huntress.
Yang tapped her fingers on the bar for a minute, before reaching around and grabbing her cup of water. She downed it like a shot, half surprised it was actually water.
"Make it a year, for me and my friends." She stated, before pushing up from her seat and walking through the thick crowd of people. It wouldn't hurt to have free access to the Club to keep an eye on him, she thought, and the drinks would just be a bonus. She smiled to herself, excited to tell her team about the spoils of her night before sidling up to the back door that Junior had mentioned. It read 'VIP', and was guarded by two beaten and bruised thugs. Their eyes, though obscured by wine colored glasses, seemed to well up with gratitude at the sight of Yang. Their guns remained holstered as both of the tall, broad men saluted her in a comical mimic of military respect. It was a stark contrast to the last time she'd been at the Club.
Yang stretched her arms over her head before summoning Ember Cilica around her forearms. She wasn't the same person that had faced Neo back in the train all that time ago, and this upcoming match would prove it.