Chapter Ten: Another Night
Yang sat curled up around her corgi pillow, muscles limp and throbbing, scroll clutched in her hand. She had already read through the files Junior had given her, now she was just staring at the names. One was unfamiliar, and another seemed fairly close to something she had heard before, but try as she may the brawler couldn't put her finger on it. That left the second name on the list.
Raven Branwennen.
'No.' She thought. 'No it can't be.' But as much as she could wish it wasn't, Yang knew it was true.
Setting her scroll down on the mattress next to her she reached under her pillow with a free hand. She rummaged through the folds of the fabric until her hand landed on a cool glossy surface. Slowly she extracted a crumpled photograph of a woman, the glossy surface of it rumpled and cold to the touch.
Yang sighed as she stared at the picture and tears began to prickle in her eyes. She had know it all along really, it had just taken her a day to exhaust herself to the point of pain almost that she had begun to realize it. It hadn't really come forward to the front of her thoughts until now in the quiet nighttime hours where the only sound to be heard was Ruby's gentle snores and Weiss's small impertinent sniffles in her sleep.
She gazed at the picture, heart suddenly swelled and racing. Two red eyes stared back, black eyebrows cocked in a sort of sneer. Red lips were set in a bemused half smile and black hair flowed in a breeze, the movement of the moment captured on picture.
The pictures corners were old, causing som discoloration in the face but Yang could spot some similarities right off the bat between the woman and this picture. The crimson eyes. The black hair was almost the same, just cut shorter in a jagged edge. The pointed chin.
Yang smiled as she compared the face with that of her own. Sure the eyes were different, but only when Yang wasn't pissed. Then they could've been mirror images almost. The woman had slightly higher cheek bones to Yang's slight dismay, but that went away when she saw she had won about ten inches lower where it counted.
Whereas Yang was almost double D, this woman was barley breaking a C or even less a B and of course Yang's hair was like a golden waterfalls where as the woman's was an inky stream.
'Well we can't both look exactly the same.' She thought and fiddled with a torn edge of the picture. 'After all, my mother only has given me half my genes.'