AN

Boy, all that talk about finding yourself wasn't worth a dime, seeing as how I was just out in the kitchen getting a snack *crickets*(I'm making jokes to cover for the fact that I haven't updated in 7 months)

Yeah, I don't laugh at me either. Okay, I'm sorry that I just disappeared without a reason, but I don't have an excuse, so you can't be mad at me *angry mod noises* okay, maybe you can.

Look all you need to know is that we're back on track and ready to rock and roll. Shenanigans ahoy!

When we last left off (in this short span of 7 months) we got an introduction to our hunter and violinist. Now, let's get a look at everyone's favorite boisterous blonde and her feline companion!

Do-over.

Yang's face had implanted itself within the mattress at this point. The lack of air was suffocating her and as fast as she could, and on shaky foundation, she awoke and pushed away from the mattress, in an attempt to free herself. Her sleep numb arms had a hard time carrying that much weight, especially with the added amount of weight from her" assets". She let herself fall back onto the mattress, turning in the air as she fell. She impacted and the springs whined at her weight. She wasn't particularly happy with the sound. Her old bed never made that sound when she threw herself on it.

She half sat up, letting the covers slide down her midriff, and looked around. First thing to note is how easy to spot her roommate was, especially when she was on top of a ladder, making an attempt at painting the ceiling. Yang snickered inaudibly. This wasn't the first time she had caught her roomie in situations that made little to no sense. Furthermore, for what reason was she trying to paint the ceiling? Life's bigger questions.

"Morning Nora. What are you up to?"

Nora spun her head, and Yang couldn't help but laugh at the grinning girl, bearing 4-5 paint brushes between her teeth, her face looking like an abused palette. Nora grinned brightly and jumped back down the ladder. She removed the brushes and cleaned away the excess spit.

"Morning Yang! I just thought I would paint the ceiling, and I don't know why, but I got this feeling. Besides, Ren told me to practice, but I forgot to bring canvases, when I packed my things, so I thought I could do without it!"

Yang swung her legs out of the side of the covers and touched down on the cold hardwood floor. It sent a shiver up her spin and she shook like she was freezing, never minding the fact that they had cranked the heating in the room to ludicrous heights. Yang liked her radiators burning. Nora didn't really mind, she would just wear less clothes.

She stood and made her way over to the dresser. She cast a reactionary look at the time and saw that it was well past the average time were classes had begun. She pulled out some of her different clothes and looked between them, as she addressed her roomie again.

"Nora, why am I up this late? Shouldn't we be in class now?"

Nora was looking through her brush collection, some of which weren't even paint brushes, and answered without looking.

"Classes today are off. Something about an emergency staff meeting" she picked up a make-up brush and dipped in a deep purple she had been mixing.

"Well, that's convenient. You have any plans for today, other than this?" Yang inquired with interest in her voice. Even though they got along nicely, Yang's roomie was still and enigma to her. She never quite fully grasped what was going on in that head of hers, but if she ever got the chance to visit, she definitely wouldn't decline.

"Ren asked if we could use the room for some painting practice, but I guess I forgot to ask you if it's okay with you"

Yang threw on her lousiest tank top and donned her trusty leather jacket, one arm at a time. She spun around to get the full view in the mirror. This would do, she smiled to herself, and blew a kiss and in the general direction of the mirror.

"Its fine, just don't make too much of a mess. I'm gonna be out all day, so see ya when I see ya. Ciao!"

And out the door she went, out into life, as the mature and responsible woman, she pretended to be.

A silhouette stirred beneath covers of warmth and comfort. The tuft of black and messy hair turned on its other side and huffed a small sigh before uttering the words.

"Don't wanna"

Looming above the tuft, stood a man in a black blouse, hands on his hips, looking very annoyed. He ran a hand through his strawberry blonde hair, which contrasted greatly with his darker complexion, and sighed audibly, although masking a small smile. He had to use tougher means. He lent down as close to the exposed ear and whispered.

"No wonder they call you 'Miss 2 out of 10' "

The figure bolted up and stared blankly at the guy in front of her who had the biggest, most infuriating smile that she had ever seen. Her hair didn't seem to want to co-operate as she tried to smooth it out, but it didn't budge.

She sighed a heavy sigh and proceeded to get out of bed, Pushing the still grinning idiot aside and began the perilous journey for the bathroom. The door slammed shut behind her and the silence calmed her nerves. She stripped of her sleeping garments and got the shower ready. The water ran warm in a matter of minutes, and she stepped in, letting the water run over her, and calm even the tensest muscle.

Back in the room, Sun was bagging some of his school supplies, when his pocket started to stir. He reached down and pulled out his phone and looked at the display. He grimaced. I don't even know why I'm friends with this guy he thought to himself. He pressed the green button on the display

"Hey, what's up?"

Silence, but slight musing could be heard.

"Really? Wow, well okay, thanks for letting me know

Musing again.

"yeah, so?"

Musing.

"Bullshit"

Musing.

"Are you sure that's what you saw?"

Yet more musing.

"Well, I think that's great. She's been moping around lately, so I hope that'll cheer her up a bit"

Musing.

"Cardin, I swear, if you touch him, I'm gonna deport your ass back to pre-school"

Angry musing.

"And that's how it's gonna be. Act you age dude. Talk to you later"

Sun hung up, and squeezed the phone tight, to stop himself from throwing it into the wall. Behind him, Blake walked up, hair in order and a towel around her neck.

"You never actually told me when and how you met that guy, Furthermore, why you're still friends with him"

Sun sighed and palmed his forehead.

"He is not my friend, but he is the best damn goalie we'll ever find. He used to be a nice guy, but that year of home schooling seems to have fucked him up in some way. I'll get through to him sometime"

Sun walked over to his bed and plopped down on it, arms spread in each direction. Blake wondered what was with him, but ignored it to go get her uniform. When she pulled the shirt out of her dresser, she heard some slight grumble behind her.

"You're gonna have to speak up" Blake called out. Sun had a tendency to mumble when he wasn't motivated.

She heard a disapproving grumble from behind her, and turned to watch him sit up straight at an extremely tardy pace. Once he was fully erected, she spoke again.

"Now, what was it you wanted to say?"

He stared at her with a crude smile, knowing that she wouldn't be happy in the least.

"Do you want to spend the entire day blissfully unaware, or do you want me to tell you?"

Blake looked positively befuddled. How could the answer make her angry? Unless...but that couldn't be.

"Classes are off for the day. You're free to do as you wish."

Blake stared in disbelief, frozen with a glare that could disintegrate steel doors. The silence spread out through room, making Sun feel a little awkward. He had dropped the smile once she had started glaring holes in his being.

Finally she closed her eye and sighed in discontent. She stood from her crouching position and started wandering around.

A few minutes passed, while Blake paced the room, and Sun sat paralyzed, not knowing what to do with himself.

Suddenly Blake bolted for her bed and practically flew under the covers, leaving Sun to ponder how she even managed that. He had to assume that an aspiring writer needed sleep when she said so. The only problem he had was that he was the one who had to wake her, and that never went good for him.

Yang was weaving through the mass of people that had gathered in the shopping district of the nearby town Dustport. Although the town was mostly used by Beacon students, serving as a sort of campus town, the place was also a highly popular vacation spot, with lots of houses for rent in the summer months. Even though winter was coming up, the amount of people still on vacation was astounding to Yang. This place was mostly used as a summer vacation spot, but apparently renting beach houses in autumn was becoming popular as well. A fad she couldn't quite grasp, but didn't want to pose questions at.

She was swerving in the narrow shopping district, going from storefront to storefront, while she was picking out places to go the next weekend. She hadn't brought her wallet, was stuck with some pocket change until she had some free time on her hands again. In her haste she had forgotten to bring it with her, while befuddled as to where Nora had found the ladder to paint the ceiling with.

She went around the town for a bit, staring at the masses and getting a drink out of the nearby soda machine. She went around for a second until she found a park where she could take a breather and sit down for a moment.

Even the park was crowded, and she thanked the gods that she was even able to find a free bench. She plopped down her sore thighs on the cold hard wood of the bench, wincing a little at the cold.

Her can of soda hissed open and she gulped down half of it in one go. She let her head fall back onto the backrest of the bench, and stared into the sky, through the canopy of multi colored leaves. Some of them dropped while she was staring and drifted down towards her face; however she swiftly swatted them away and with her free hand.

Yang had never really been a fan of autumn. Sure, the pretty colored leaves were nice to look at form time to time, but it all seemed so sad to her. The pretty colors were only a sickening hue until they had all but left behind the wonderful green, for a dark and cold black mass of branches. It was in a state of decay, as she saw it. Those who praised the colors were fools in her opinion. A death is not meant to be beautiful. Not with the harm that it causes.

She felt a sting in her palm and looked down to see that she had unintentionally crushed the can between her fingers. For reason unknown to her, she had once again lost control of her feelings and displayed her impressive (bordering on supernatural) fist strength. She was known for firm handshakes and the guys over at the medical ward knew her handiwork very well.

She threw the can aside on the bin next to the bench and pushed of her knees, huffing with great struggle, as she stretched her back, a few satisfying cracks resounding in her ears. The day was far from over, but she felt like she was running late for something she couldn't remember. Perhaps, her feelings of disgust made her long for this disgusting season to end, but alas, she still had a week or two to tolerate, before the beautiful monotony of winter would replace the sullen and morose vibrancy of autumn.

Her legs started moving along the park trail, not really sure where they were carrying her at this point. She did however find something very interesting, when the canopies thinned out and a large building, hidden behind leaves mostly, came into view and gave her eyes somewhere else to focus.

Without hesitation in her step, she moved faster, enticed by the building, not really knowing why again.

Blake had been kicked out of the apartment, something that Sun only really managed to do once every fortnight, when he got serious, and their fight for dominance became about more than just territory. She had hurried to grab her bag, with her laptop though, he was decent enough to not leave her without her lives bread.

Only one thing remained to fuel this so called, lives bread that she craved so insistently, however, oddly enough, it was also the only thing she was generally starved for. Any great writer needed creativity and passion, but an engine could also be in tip top shape, but couldn't run without its necessary fuel.

As, a writer, being starved for inspiration, she might as well throw the towel in the ring and admit defeat, because she could only write so many run on sentences and confusing dialogue's before her temper got the better of her. It wasn't her fault really; it was more of a fault of the setting she had placed herself in. While her parents insisted that she went to preparatory school, to make way for college and medical school, her grades didn't exactly scream honor student.

And while they had gotten her a nice lodging mate back at the campus dorm, some really nice red haired girl who liked swords, she never really felt the need to stay there more than a few days at a time. Her one act of rebellion, moving in with her old friend Sun, who she knew had an apartment in the city, proved to be the biggest blessing since the time she got her first book on her fifth birthday. It was a perfect deal for both of them. Sun got halved both his rent and his number of chores needed done, and Blake could avoid the social aspect of school dorms, something she wasn't quite fond of to begin with. A quit pro quo, if you will. Though the last two years hadn't been nice on her, she had managed to scrape through, getting just good enough grades, and paying just the right amount of attention.

Now her third year at Beacon Prep had arrived, and she was about to give up on the idea of this place ever capturing her interest. She had mused about the idea that she should just get her studies over with and go on to college as fast as possible. With all the stories you heard about fraternity life she was bound to at least find something to keep her interest.

She had already reached the park, wandering about with her head in my butts as usual. She did have a tendency to let her mind go and leave her body to wander the earth. Sometimes, she was even quite hard to get back to ground again. Still, a mind aflutter sprouted more creative seeds than one deeply rooted in their academics. She had always told herself that, strongly believing that some famous author had said it at some point. She never bothered to look it up, out of the fear of it being wrong.

The park was surprisingly empty, seeing as it was only midday, and it was the winter vacation season. Why anyone would travel away for the winter holidays, Blake would never know. The winter holidays were about being with your family.

Huh, that's a word she didn't usually take into her mouth. Family. What did she know of family anyway, she who had been distancing herself from her parents for what seemed like most of her life. It would be an understatement to say that they didn't get along, them with their weird sense of justice. It's hard knowing that your parents risk their own lives every night. It's even harder to know that they risk their life taking other innocent lives. The hardest part was living with the thought that you couldn't be on their side in this matter. Their intentions may have been just, but their means certainly weren't.

It was hard, knowing that you are the offspring of murderers. As far as she was concerned, the word "family" started and ended with the word "Sun".

The sound of crumbling metal derailed her train of thought, and she turned her head to the left, her eyes captivated firstly by the mane of unruly, yet entrancing golden blond hair. The second thing she noticed was the object that made the sound. Nestled in her balled fist, was what appeared to be a soda can, yet the form was disfigured and the labels were twisted. She would have thought about it a second time, if she hadn't smelled the sugar and seen the fizzy fluid running down her arm.

Her chest jerked forward without her consent (a somewhat familiar movement, but she couldn't quite place it) and she had yet to take her eyes of this form, this unknown human, only recognizable by the streams of velvet gold flowing down her back. Her chest jerked again, and this time she knew why the feeling had seemed so familiar. Her heart was beating, louder and clearer than she had ever felt before. Her eyes opened widely and she stared down, realizing that she was clutching her blouse hardly, seeing her knuckles turn white.

Why was this happening? Somehow, this display of raw emotion had hit her hard, harder than any inspiration had ever done before. She was beyond enticed, beyond enchanted. She had grown fascinated.

Blake moved silently, behind the golden haired woman, making sure that her zetsu didn't leak any malicious aura (Blake had to mentally slap herself for that joke). After they had walked awhile, she realized which way they were eventually gonna go. This path led to the Beacon boxing club clubhouse. Why the clubhouse was located in the middle of a public park, no one ever seemed to know, except the club members themselves.

She saw that the blonde's eye was drawn to the building, and that she slowly started making her way to the front door. Blake found this a tad odd, since the gloomy atmosphere easily warded off unwelcome guest and such. Most of the time, outsiders had never actually been inside the building, and those who had didn't like talking about it.

Nevertheless, blonde was moving towards the building, not a show of fear in her step. Someone's cocky Blake mentally noted when they both reached the door.

Blondie pushed the door open wide enough to let Blake slip in after the fact, silently. The entrance hall was as anyone would have expected, filled with glass cases showing off various medals and trophies. One thing to note was that the air was stuffy and it suddenly became hard breathing. Some dust lodged itself in Blake's throat, and she was about to cough out the pest, when she remembered that she actually wasn't supposed to be here, so she stayed her breath. Yet, the more she tried to suppress the inevitable cough, the harder it actually became. Blake had reached her limit and had to cough, but covertly, and as silently as humanly possible.

She let out a minor cough. Tiny, almost undetectable.

"Yeah, you're right; this place is really stuffy and dusty. Hey why are you following me by the way?" Blake almost jumped out of her skin at the change in sound levels. So far she had disguised her presence masterfully, almost flawlessly. That dammed cough had been her downfall. The blonde was perusing Blake's face with her eyes, when she flashed a small grin.

"Save the thinking miss lady ninja. I knew that you were following me all the way from the park. Anyone would have noticed, what with your heart beating at 900 miles per hour. Seriously, that much beating must be unhealthy." Yang said, making the smaller girl in black visibly give up on life, and sink to the floor. She stared at the wall for a few moments, before grinning big. She had never experienced such a powerful reaction from anything, let alone another human.

"Sorry to bother you but…Something about you…thrilled me to no end, so I had to see what you were up to. It won't happen again, sorry for the inconvenience" Blake stated, breathing heavily before she stood up and made for the exit to the building. Her hand was on the push bar when her other arm was caught in a strong grip. She looked back seeing the blonde stubbornly holding on to her wrist. Blake tried to yank her wrist free, but found that the blonde was much too strong for her to be considered someone who Blake could overpower. Instead, her other hand let go of the push bar and she allowed herself to be dragged back into the entrance hall.

"You're Blake Belladonna, aren't you? If not, then you just fit the description to a T" Blake was astonished, baffled even. How did this girl know her already? and where did she get such and accurate description of her? "Y'know, your English partner really is lonely, when you don't show up to class, miss belladonna." She said, making Blake connect the final pieces of the puzzle in her head.

That English class that she didn't really care about, the one she had been skipping each day, never missing one, had apparently decided to appoint this blunt blonde as her partner. Did they know? Could they have known that she would react this strongly to her partner?

No, they couldn't possibly have. None of the teachers knew well enough to make executive decisions like that. Maybe she should juts count her blessing that she wasn't stuck with some dead-end, no-life prep that didn't really care for her any way or the other.

So why did this new girl care? Why had she been interested enough to actually ask someone for a description of her, the nerdy writer girl, who was way too good at English for her own good. Was she just as fascinated by her partner as Blake was? No, that couldn't be true. After all, she was the nerdy too good at English girl, the one that no one cared about generally.

"Why don't you come to English class?" The blonde asked, bang on, blunt and straight forward. Yang had now dragged Blake all the way into the main training room where the ring was located. She dragged her towards the large hanging sandbags.

For a moment Blake contemplated feeding her a lie, but she decided against it, seeing she would probably see straight through her lie.

"I don't have anything to learn from those classes" She said, her shoulders sinking a tick. "I already know all the English I need. I've had book's published you see" She said, flaunting her achievement, while not trying to show off to someone who could easily snap her wrist, if provoked.

Yang whistled impressed, while removing her leather jacket and placing it gently on a nearby bench. She started taking a few swings at the sandbag, and within seconds the hinges started giving at her strength. Blake couldn't help but stare at her muscles as she beat away at the poor sandbag, which had already surrendered. Something about her motions seemed very hypnotic, to the point of it being erotic. Blake reddened. She had tried her hand at writing smutty books before, for inspiration purposes obviously, but her drafts had been really hit and miss. Seeing those muscles on a girl with that pretty a face gave her enough material to write at least two incredibly dirty novellas, and maybe a short story for herself to keep. Her mind was overrun with adjectives, and none of them she wanted to say out loud in public.

"So, you must be pretty famous to have released some books, right?" Yang said while still swinging away at the sandbag, which looked ready to deflate at any moment. She was starting to build up a sweat, which in turn made Blake build up a sweat.

"If only that were the case" Blake chuckled to herself in a humorless way. "No, just because you're published it doesn't mean that you're famous. I've released one book, and it sold a total of 648 copies" She counted, becoming more and more depressed by the minute. Her sunken expression was cast in the light of pure gold, and when she looked up again, she saw Yang staring at her with an astounded expression. Wait, did she think that was a good thing?

"Wow, that must've been really cool, seeing your own book in the stores. I wish I could do anything remotely impressive" She said, sounding a little depressed herself. Her statement somehow made Blake laugh, and made Yang a little bit annoyed at her, laughing like that.

"What's so funny, I just wanna have a talent too" She said, almost sounding like a child who had a hissy fit. This only made Blake laugh just a little bit harder.

"Okay, two things…" Blake started up again, trying to calm herself and take deep breaths. When she had regained control of her breathing, she continued. "…Firstly, 648 copies isn't exactly something to feel proud about…" although admittedly, she did kinda freak a tiny bit out when the book got stocked and she saw it at the local bookshop. "…and secondly, judging by how you've mercilessly been beating this here poor sandbag, I'd say that you already know you talent"

"What, boxing? Beacons boxing club shut down last year, and if it isn't an extracurricular here, you can bet you sweet little ass that it isn't considered a talent in the universities." She said, almost sounding like she was on the verge of tears. Perhaps here stood a woman who had wanted nothing more than to join the Beacon boxing club, only for that dream to be torn away from her in a matter of seconds, without her having say. A tragic story of a girl trapped in a school where she never got to do the thing she wanted. Blake was jotting down notes, because these nuggets were big. They could be something worth longer down the line.

For some inexplicable reason, Blake felt drawn to helping this woman, just to see how far down this enticing persons rabbit hole she could go(innuendo not intended) She was grabbed, but she was now only holding on by the skin of her teeth. She needed to know this person. Her entire career maybe hinge on this very moment. Okay, okay calm breath, don't sound too creepy, just ask her and she'll definitely not decline. Blake's mind was racing at a 900 mph, and at one point she was wondering whether her heart or her mind was winning their impromptu race. Takin the first step was hardest, so she was going all in, all or nothing.

"M-maybe I could help…If I help you write a letter to the administration, they'll probably reconsider the closing of the boxing club. Maybe they'll even give you control over the club." Her voice shrunk more and more into itself as she saw the astonished expression on Yangs face. She cursed under her breath, believing firmly that she had screwed up again.

"I-I'm sorry, it was just a suggestion. You don't have to…" She started breaking down, when her breath was taken from her by a pair of arms wrapping around her waist and squeezing tightly. Then she got lifted into the air and the grip just clammed down even harder.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Yang exclaimed, now spinning Blake around in the air. There was a reason that Blake didn't like rollercoaster rides. This reminded her quite a lot of it. Her gut started shaking. Something was coming up if this didn't stop soon.

She was put down, while her face still retained some of its original color. Her stance was shaky, but she would be fine. In fact, at this moment she was happier that she had been in a long time. Although the rough ride almost made her puke her guts out, she was smiling ever so slightly at the physical contact. Her mind filled with ideas. At this speed, she wouldn't have the time to write them all down.

"You're welcome" She said with a high-pitched girly voice. She had never seen such sides of herself. This would be hazardous to her health.

"c'mon, let's go back to the dorms. I want everyone to meet my saving grace. And, I think your English partner would appreciate you coming for a visit every now and then" she winked playfully. Blake didn't believe that her cheeks could get any redder, but just as she was about to calm herself down, this girl brought her right back into turbo mode.

"Th-Thanks" Blake responded, trying to hide her tomato of a face. Yang started walking out the door and and Blake followed diligently behind her. Like a stray cat would follow a kind stranger. It dawned on her that she never actually got this amazing person name. This was a blunder that needed correcting quickly.

"I never even caught your name" Blake sad, trying to sound dignified and failing, when she giggled a little. Yang looked back at her with a smug face, and she smiled a devilish smile. Blake was about ready to sell her soul immediately.

"My name is Yang Xiao-Long. Yang is fine, kitty cat"

Yang. She tasted the name a few times before she decided that she liked it. It had punch, but was a bit rounded as well. It fit her perfectly.

How odd, in these small hours of the evening, she thought that the word family might already start with the word "Sun" but end with the word "Yang".

A longer chapter to make up for the abscence. I hope this appeases the writer gods, otherwise I'm positively screwed.