A party was a place that didn't suit a lot of girls. For others, like Blake Belladonna, it was tolerable, particularly when her friends were around, and besides, she knew that she did look good in a dress when she wanted to.
She didn't recognise any of the people at the party; men in suits, women in dresses, but pairs of recognisably non-human ears bobbing above the sea of heads gave her some measure of reassurance. Not enough for her to let her guard down, though, or to brave the dance floor, nor even to remove the ribbon adorning her head. The last thing she needed was to be identified as "that faunus girl with the cat ears" if things went wrong. Humans were ubiquitous, and looking like one made her feel invisible and safe.
At some unseen signal, the crowd began to quiet down, and a man entered the stage, followed by a pair of elegantly dressed young women. Blake had been around enough scoundrels and assassins to know that one of them, the one with the short white hair and piercing yellow gaze was a bodyguard of some kind, sharply surveying the room, shoulders just a little too tense to seem innocent. She didn't see any weapons on her, but that didn't mean much in her experience. She made the mistake of staring an instant too long, and their eyes met, the girl's gaze lingering on her for slightly longer than she was comfortable with before moving on to keep tabs on everyone else in the room.
She'd been marked. The girl would be watching her every move out of the corner of her eye.
The man droned on, a businessman's speech about how he was glad to continue a partnership with the other party guests, and was looking forward to a lucrative new financial year and so on.
Her charge returned as the man concluded his speech to a polite applause, a tall, blonde woman who always seemed to have the smile on her face of someone who was aware that the world was a joke, and delighted in how no-one else had realised it yet.
"How are you enjoying yourself, Miss Belladonna?" Blake felt the woman laughing at her behind the mask she called a face. She knew formality got under her skin.
"I'm fine. I hope you're not enjoying yourself too much."
"I find my enjoyment to be at just the right point between too much and not enough." She handed Blake a pair of champagne glasses, the golden liquid sparkling in the glittering lights. Blake took them, dexterously slipping them between her fingers. "It's good to enjoy a party with friends." Her quick gesture turned Blake's head to look beside her, and she almost jumped out of her skin, feeling the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.
Like a shadow, the short-haired girl had appeared beside her. When she turned back to the woman, she was nowhere to be seen, leaving her with the girl.
They glared at one another for a few seconds that stretched on for what felt like a minute, until the girl closed her eyes, her face softening into a gentle smile.
"I take it you're not one for these kinds of events, either?"
She spoke confidently, like she was confirming a fact rather than asking a question.
"Nope. Guess not." Blake folded her arms across her chest.
"Well then. Would you mind telling me how I look?" The girl's face flushed slightly and she averted her eyes as she asked the question.
Blake frowned. "Um, you look alright. Why are you asking me?"
"I already know what everyone else will tell me. What specifically about me looks good?" The girl posed awkwardly, like it was a motion she was unused to doing.
Blake looked the girl up and down. "Your… chest, I guess? It really, uh, stands out." It was true; the girl's chest had to have been at least as big as Yang's.
Her face lit up in a bright smile as she clasped Blake's hand excitedly. "Really? You think it brings out my femininity?"
"It does, uh, do that, yes."
The girl backed off, enthusiastically pumping one of her fists, spending a moment unable to contain her joy. Blake stood by, unable to hide a smile at the seeing someone express their happiness in such a way.
"I'm Miyabi, by the way." She ran her fingers through her hair to get it out of her eyes, which only served to highlight her strong features.
"Blake. Blake Belladonna."
"A pleasure to meet you, Blake Belladonna." Miyabi was a lot more composed now, her past insecurities behind her. She frowned, looking Blake up and down once more. "Are you weak, Blake?"
"What?"
"Are you lacking in strength? You are obviously a warrior, but you hide yourself."
"I'm not exactly the direct confrontation type."
"But you aren't strong enough to avoid confrontation, nor to prevail when it finds you."
"Are you trying to pick a fight."
"Not at all. But if I were, I would be able to start it, and I would win it."
There was an nearly imperceptible change in Miyabi's aura, and Blake's hand moved towards her weapon.
"Let's find out, then," Blake hissed.
"So you admit you desire to prove yourself, then."
"Miyabi!" A voice called from the crowd, and the world turned to a foggy haze. They were still in the ballroom, but the crowd had disappeared and an ethereal barrier blotted out the sky and plunged the room into an eerie red light.
Miyabi hadn't moved, but interposed between the two of them was the other, more unremarkable girl who had been on the stage with her earlier, the end of a staff thrust towards Blake, whose own weapon was aimed at the offender.
"Imu. We're not here to start fights."
"Maybe you should've thought of that earlier," Blake responded.
"I won't let you get away with threatening Miyabi," Imu said, glaring up at Blake from behind her glasses.
Miyabi sighed. "Fine. Do as you will, but don't embarrass our name."
Imu smirked. "Not a chance."
Author's Notes: Welp, looks like it might be a moment before I get around to writing the Yuuka vs. Marisa fight from the last chapter, and then I went ahead and started another one here between Imu and Blake. I figured I should start setting up some of the villains, and besides, they're fun to write.