Hey everyone! I've had this idea bouncing around my head for a while so I thought I'd write it up for your entertainment! Yay! Now, I know what you guys must be thinking: Yuriko and Janos? Out of all the parings, why them? Well, both of them are my favourite X-men characters so how could I not pair them up ate some point? Though I do love Logan, I thought Yuriko could be paired with someone different for a change. And hey, her and Janos have a few things in common, believe it or not! They were both captured and experimented on by William Stryker (Janos in Wolverine: Origins, Yuriko in X2). They were both under complete control of their leaders (Yuriko because of the mind-control serum, Janos for his own reasons, I'm sure), probably doing things they didn't want to do. I mean, did you see how sad Yuriko looked when Logan impaled her with the needle? I cried.

Oops, I think I'm rambling on a bit, hahaha! But I hope I've proved that this pairing isn't that strange after all. Yes, they never had a confrontation in the movies but does that really matter?

I'm new to fanfiction so I'm still getting used to having an audience to my writings. It can be a bit daunting, you know? So tell me what you think! Leave a review if you've got the time! By the way, 'XxxxX' means change of scene, just to clarify! Thank you so much for clicking on this page, I really really hope you enjoy this story! (Check out my other fanfiction, too!)

Enjoy!

Yuriko ran into the alleyway and kept running till she was sure that the shadows concealed her from street view. Only then did she slow her pace to walk, then eventually stopped. Turning to look over her shoulder, Yuriko watched the street carefully to make sure that no one had seen her. No shouts came from the night, no one screaming that anything had been stolen.

Grinning, Yuriko brought her hand out from her black cloak. In her palm sat a heavy drawstring bag; pulling it open, her eyes widened at the sight of all the golden coins inside: she'd hit the jackpot. This was enough to make her last three months. It was the most promising treasure she's captured in all her years of thieving, apart from clothing. Yuriko closed up the bag again and pulled her cloak closer over her shoulders, knowing she wasn't out of the woods yet. All of the years on the streets of New York had taught Yuriko many things; one of which was to spend any riches wisely and quickly. Anyone else could get their hands on her coins; they could take it for themselves. Well, let them try. A small hiss escaped her lips and Yuriko flexed her fingers. Someone had stolen from her once, and they had payed the price with their life. Though she could have, Yuriko hadn't made a name for herself on these streets. She'd had plenty of opportunity, but she wanted to remain unknown. Those criminals who did have a name for themselves were feared by everyone. The three most dangerous gang leaders ran through her mind: Azazel, the Wolverine, Jason Stryker...

Yuriko pulled the cloak hood from her head and ran a hand down the back of her short, black hair. She knew that she had the skills to join any gang available; once a member from Azazel's gang had seen her take a pearl necklace straight off an old woman's neck. She had even been asked if she would try out for the gang, but Yuriko hadn't accepted the offer. She could look after herself. She didn't need people watching her back or sharing their thefts with her. She was on her own, and that was how she liked it.

Shaking the feelings of the past off, the young girl pulled the hood over her head once more. Yuriko's cloak swayed elegantly behind her as she walked deeper into the shadows. Had anyone been watching her, they might have thought they were in the presence of royalty from the way she moved. A smirk twisted at Yuriko's lips; with all these coins she would have a feast fit for a Queen. She could do with it, too. With sharp cheekbones and an emaciated figure, it was a wonder that her body carried enough muscle to hold her together.

A footstep suddenly made her snap around; her cloak followed in a flutter of black silk. There, at other end of the alleyway, stood a figure. Yuriko narrowed her eyes; from this distance, all she could make out was that they were tall and lanky; any further detail besides their messy looking hair she couldn't see. Without taking another step forward or back, the girl stood her ground. Tightening her hand around the soft bag, Yuriko defiantly lifted her chin and called to them across the distance, "What do you want?"

The silhouetted figure did not answer. Nor did they move an inch. They only stood there staring at her while she stared back. Bristling, Yuriko hissed through her teeth and took a threatening step forward to assert herself, "Get off my property!"

The silence was drawn out by the night; the air grew thicker and thicker by the second. Sucking in a breath of annoyance, Yuriko lifted her chin again. Fine, if they were going to ignore her, she was going give them the same treatment. She was about to turn around and stalk the other way when the figure finally moved. Their hands - which had been still by their sides this while time – were brought forward in a violent sweeping motion toward her.

Instantly, a wall of wind hit her, knocking her off her feet. Yuriko landed on her spine with a sickening crunch; her vision swum horribly. The bag nearly slipped from her grasp; clutching it with both hands, Yuriko pushed herself back onto her feet, her back to the stranger. God, what had just happened? Had this person just controlled the wind? The realisation barley had time to hit her before something else did: a foot flew into the back of her left knee, causing her leg to collapse underneath her. The bag was wrenched from her fingers while another hand smashed her face into the concrete. Pain was so bright that red flashed behind Yuriko's eyes; it was gone the moment she lifted her head from the ground. The figure had already put several meters between them, the distance gaining as they increased their sprint.

A snarl of rage ripped from Yuriko's throat: no one stole from her! Shoving herself back to her feet, Yuriko tore the cloak from her neck and threw it to the ground. Pity to throw it away, but she could take another one any other time. It would only slow her in her chase for those coins, for what she needed to survive. Without a second thought, Yuriko ran after the thief. They were not going to live to see the morning.

XxxxX

Janos's breath stuck in his throat as he ran. His feet pounded against the street path; he whipped his back to steal a glance of his shoulder. The girl wasn't following him; the bag he had taken from her was heavier than he thought. There must be a lot of coins in there.

He hadn't felt bad taking from her; he was a thief, after all. Like the million others on the street, he stole what he could to survive. It was all in the name of life. And tonight must have been the best theft since…well, since forever. He didn't dare look back now he had to keep running from that girl. If it came to it, he would kill her. He didn't enjoy killing, as some criminals did, he only did it when necessary. It taken a full wall of wind to distract that girl long enough to pull the bag from her iron grasp; judging from that, he didn't exactly want to be up against her.

His ability to control the wind had been with him since he was young; he couldn't imagine life without it now. According to government's "wanted" signs, he wasn't the only… mutant – as humans were calling them now – he wasn't the only mutant around. There were hundreds of people out there like him, Janos just didn't let himself get close enough to anybody to know.

He himself had the ability of aerokinesis; one of his favourite things to do with his power was to create tornados. There was nothing the sensation of spinning, of feeling the power of the wind swirling all around him and knowing that it would shield from harm. But with every power came a tense border between complete control and absolutely none. When his emotions overwhelmed him, be it grief or anger, Janos' control on his actions and his powers would slip drastically. This often ended in freak hurricanes and the boy finding himself surrounded by bodies and bloodshed when his senses finally returned.

An example of that had been only a few weeks ago when Janos had returned from a day's work to find his best friend with his throat torn out. Janos had instantly tracked down and killed the murderer in retaliation, only to find out that it was Azazel's right hand man. Since then, he had been hiding from Azazel's wrath, knowing that he would be brutally slaughtered if he was seen. He wasn't sure how many people knew him; if anyone recognised him, they were told to hand him over – alive – to Azazel and his crew.

So now, here he was, running away with a bag of coins that he had just stolen from a teenager. A small grin found its way onto his lips; it felt good to know his opponent would never find him. After all, she was only a girl.

There was a snarl of rage from somewhere above him. Before Janos could blink, the girl had fallen from the perch of the left alley wall and dropped in front of him. He stumbled to a halt so violent he nearly fell over. Janos could feel his eyes growing wide; how had she done that? The alleyway walls stretched meters above their heads; to drop from that height would be suicide. Had she climbed onto the wall and been running across it all this time? No wonder he didn't think she had followed him!

The girl was in a feral landing position; her knees were bent and apart while one hand pressed to the ground. The other hand was raised above the concrete, her fingers bending like cat's claws. She had her head raised and was staring at him with soul-black eyes filled with hatred. Her cloak was gone and up close in the moonlight he could see that she wore a tight black crop top and leather pants. Her sharp face wore a twisted snarl.

Janos knew that he had one more chance to get away from her, and he didn't waste a second. With his free hand he gave one sharp swirling motion; that was all that was needed to create a whirlwind at her feet. Before the girl could comprehend what was happening, Janos used the wind to slam her up against the brick wall, then throw her body to the ground as hard as he could before running past.

His heart was slamming in his chest like a drum, his mouth dry: she was like him! She was mutant; she had to be! No normal person could catch up to him as fast as she did, let alone run along the top of a building and jump off it without dying. But this time, he knew that he had won this fight. The last time he had thrown someone against a wall that hard, their skull had shattered into a million bits of bone. He grinned again, though what he really felt like doing was flopping to the ground with exhaustion. Up ahead was the local lake; he was nearly home.

Knives suddenly cut across his back, so fast and viscous that the pain didn't even have time to register. He open his mouth to scream or shout, but he could do neither before his legs were knocked from him in a sweeping blow. Janos crashed to the ground on his torn back and his eyes instinctively closed. The bag flew from his hands, spilling coins over the pavment. Every fibre in the boy's body was screaming in agony; sticky blood ran from his back and soaked into his tattered clothes. A fist smashed into his jaw with such force that white pain flashed in his vision. Blood gushed from his mouth the moment he opened it to scream. His eyes were screwed so tightly that they burned. Someone was over him, their bony but surprisingly strong legs squeezing his sides painfully.

"That's what you get for stealing from me," a cold voice hissed directly above him. It was her, he realised numbly: that girl. "I should kill you for what you did."

Janos felt a knife against his throat, long and thin. She didn't move it, and he swallowed deeply. This wasn't the first time he had had a knife pressed to his throat, but something told him it would be the last and that was what made Janos afraid. He would never admit it, but he was afraid of this young girl. She had managed to get the better of him, something no one else had. Janos had thought she was just another Waste, what he called those who died because they were hopeless at street-life. God, how wrong he was.

His mind screamed at him not to open his eyes but they opened anyway. The first thing they met was the black eyes of the girl. He could see no remorse in them, no guilt for the boy which lay pinned underneath her. Then Janos noticed the rest of her face. Her bones jutted from her pale skin like a skeleton's; when was the last time she had eaten? She was so much thinner than every other thief he had seen. In her state, he thought, she should be dead. Then he let his eyes roam from her sharp cheekbones up to her hair. It was short, like a style he had seen locals wear; looks cute on her, he decided almost lazily, his mind starting to haze over. The jagged cut suits her small frame. Finally, his eyes found her lips. Her mouth was curled into a snarl, one that he thought he would only see on a wolf.

"Go on then," he gasped out through his bloodied lips, "Kill me. It's the least I deserve."

The girl didn't move, nor did her expression. Realising that he had a shot at redemption, Janos blinked up at her and said – though every word hurt like hell, "I'm sorry I took the money from you. You clearly need it more than I do –"

"Stop with your pity," she hissed, cutting him off. "We're thieves, we take for ourselves. And thieves," she pressed the blade harder against his skin, "do not beg for their life."

"I wasn't –" Janos almost choked on his own blood; it was gathering at the back of his mouth and slipping down his throat. "I – I'm trying to say that I'm sorry –"

"Don't be," the girl's eyes flashed. "You've given me a chance to kill again; something I haven't done in a long time."

God, who was she? Janos's mind swum; he knew some criminals loved to kill but he had never seen a girl this age so bloodthirsty. At that moment that he knew he had to know her name. The curiously was too much to bear. So, with one last gasp of breath, he asked, "What's you're name?"

The girl's eyes flickered over his entire face, taking in for the first time his long hair and slightly-almond shaped eyes. Both were as black as the night sky they lay under. He knew she was weighing him up, to conclude if she could give away something so personal. A thief never gave their name away unless they wanted to be known by it; Janos had never told his to anyone and it was clear that the girl never had too.

"Yuriko." The girl finally hissed, her beautiful eyes as sharp as flint.

Janos' mouth curled into a smile through the blood. She didn't smile back at him, only snapped in an ice-cold tone, "Yours?"

"Janos."

"Janos?" She sneered back at him. "What is that, Brazilian?"

"Spanish." He turned his head to side and coughed; blood exploded from his lips. It cleared his airway momentarily, and he found himself gasping in air.

"You're a long way from home, pretty boy." Her tone was snarky and cruel, though underneath it he thought he detected a sense of something else…could it be sadness?

"So are you," he answered when he had enough breath back to speak again. Her name was Japanese and by the slight tang her English held, she still carried an accent.

"Oh, you're so clever." She said in a mocking tone. Then her expression and eyes hardened again and she hissed. "Pity you're about to be killed by a girl."

"Wait," Janos cried as he felt blood dribble from a thin cut on his throat. He locked his eyes onto hers, staring straight at her. "You're like me, aren't you? You're a mutant."

"So?" She moved the blade against his skin, causing him to swallow hard; agony drilled into his neck and he felt blood dribble from the cut and pool in the dip of his collarbone.

Janos suddenly gasped as the world began to sway, his consciousness starting to slip. Don't close your eyes! A voice yelled inside his mind. Don't, or you'll die! Sleep was covering him in a warm, deep blanket and he wanted nothing more than to give into it. His eyes began to flutter shut, the image of the girl above him fading away and blurring into the night sky. No longer could he feel the pain of his back or throat, or the hot blood against his clothes. Janos stopped fighting to stay awake and instead let the blackness take him in a deep wave.

What did you think? Good, bad, ugly? Leave a review! Once again, thank you for reading this, from the bottom of my heart! The next chapter will be up in the next day or so! Yay!

Till then, have a good day! :)