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The Company You Keep

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A team that earns together

Shops together.

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It was evening in the Haven Academy's dorm.

Most of the other students in the building were fast asleep, but the members of Team ENMY ran on a different biological clock, for better or for worse.

Currently working out on the apartment floor, were Yang and Mercury. The two were locked in an intense pushup competition. In the name of fair play, Mercury matched Yang's one-armed pushups. Between them, Neo kept count of their set.

"You about ready to give up yet, blondie?" Mercury taunted.

"Not a chance, Merc. I see you sweating."

"No shame calling it quits. You are top-heavy, after all."

"Must be getting tired, if you're slinging that weak trash talk," Yang grinned. "You can switch if your poor, baby arm hurts too much."

"—Ugh." They practically heard Emerald roll her eyes. "You two mind toning down the testosterone? I'm trying to savor some peace and quiet on a rare night off."

Their leader sat a quaint dining table. Coffee steamed in the cup next to her, and in her hands was a newspaper she was trying to lose herself in.

"How goes the status quo?" Mercury grunted. "Vacuo cave in to Vale or Atlas yet?"

"Nope. Gotta hand it to them. They're really sticking to their neutrality stance. But that might be cause of their no official leadership policy than anything."

"And our side?" Yang joined.

"Building up forces, as per usual," Emerald turned the page. "There's skirmishes along every nations' borders, but nothing major so far."

"That's good."

"The longer they hold back, the bigger the fallout when the ice actually breaks," Emerald refuted. "Open war is coming, and it's coming soon. Just a matter of weeks, by my guess."

"How can you tell?"

"You can hear it in the way people whisper. Read it in their body language. People are scared. And when they get scared, they get stupid—and violent. And then…war."

*Knock knock knock*

All eyes darted immediately to the door. None of them moved or spoke for a tense moment.

"We expecting anyone?" Yang whispered.

"No. We're not," Emerald answered low.

In a split second, the team readied to fight. Emerald tossed Yang her prosthetic, which she quickly clamped on. The rest of them trained their weapons on the doorway.

"—I assure you, I present no harm to you or your own," a voice came from the other side. "My business is on behalf of my employer, who wishes to offer your team an assignment."

Emerald groaned and opened it.

There, they saw a rather astute man with a bearing of utmost formality. His blue hair was slicked back and he wore something of a butler's attire with a long length of tapestry hanging from his arm. If Emerald could use a term to describe him, it would be "glorified messenger".

Seeing as the man presented no apparent harm, the leader motioned for the rest of her team to relax. At the same time, Emerald put on her best customer service smile to fake pleasantries.

"Sorry about that. We don't usually get clients at this hour."

"No need for apologies. I was sent here with the awareness that these were your usual waking hours."

Huh. So whoever they are, they've done their homework, Emerald thought.

"And who may I ask is your employer?"

"It is my master's intent that their identity remain secret and that they would hope you understand. As for myself, please feel free to call me Peafowl. I have been entrusted to act as intermediary," the butler performed a graceful bow.

"I see. Well, Peafowl. How may we help you and your employer?"

"Ah, I have the contract right here." The man produced a sealed envelope. "To be read by the leader of Team ENMY. You are Yang Xiao Long, I presume?" He faced Yang.

"Uh! I am… she. But I'm not the leader," Yang started to reply.

Peafowl frowned at the statement.

"According to our official records, your unit is registered under—"

"—Yes, Ms. Xiao Long is our de facto leader," Emerald interrupted. "While that is true, I am the one responsible for handling these types of matters. So, you will be dealing with me."

The butler looked back and forth between them and read between the lines.

"I understand," Peafowl nodded. "Shall we speak in private, then?"

"Of course."

One sideways glare from Emerald told Yang, Mercury, and Neo to get scarce. Which the three did, while hiding their dissatisfaction.

Once they left their dorm, they dropped into the couches of the nearby student lounge.

"So, who did the most pushups?" Mercury asked.

He and Yang turned to Neo who only looked back at them innocently, as if to say she lost count.

""Neo!"" they both groaned.

At this, the petite girl merely smiled and pointed to Yang.

"Why I ever thought she'd judge us fairly, I do not know," Mercury said, while massaging his arm.

"Hm. So, what do you think this new gig's gonna be?" Yang wondered. "Fancy messengers, mysterious employers. Those always end up dicey, but this one feels different somehow."

"Oh, yeah. Everything's off about that guy."

"How you mean?"

"His shoes are all wrong," Mercury answered shortly.

"…His what?"

"Shoes, blondie. You can tell a lot about a person from their shoes."

"Of course, you can."

"You totally can! And that guy's shoes…. super wrong."

"Okay. Say I believe you, what's the story?"

"Iunno."

Yang stared blankly at him in disbelief.

"They're shoes!" Mercury raised his hands. "It's not like you can read a person's life story from their shoes. That's not how shoes work."

"For the love of—So, all you can say is that he's wrong."

"Sometimes, that's all you need. I'm sure Em's got it covered, though."

"Hope you're right."

Not a moment sooner, Emerald appeared before them with a smile on her face.

"Come on, losers. We're going shopping."

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X

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The twenty-four-hour life of Downtown Mistral was a beautiful place to explore.

An array of clothing shops had mannequins on bright display. Dancing lights from gambling parlors lit the roads. Music and the smell of delicious foods filled the air, breathing nocturnal life to the city's streets.

Mistral was rumored to be the first settlement of true civilization, and it only continued to grow after the fact. It dwarfed the other Kingdoms when it came to density and population, and of course, so followed suit its capital.

Along the downtown's lively streets, strolled the members of Team ENMY. As they passed various shop windows, Emerald briefed them on the job she accepted on their behalf.

"Alright, here's the sitch," she explained. "A big aristocrat's son is a fanboy of the underground racing scene. Problem is, he doesn't have a car or the mechanical knowhow to build one. So, his family's paying big lien for us to get one for him. He's got his eye on one in particular—and that's our target."

"Sounds dumb," Mercury commented.

"Also, we gotta win it in a street race."

"Okay, that part sounds fun. Not doable, but fun."

"It's doable. Why, we have an expert bike racer in our merry band, don't we?" Emerald posed with faked enthusiasm.

"You…wouldn't happen to be talking about me, would you?" Yang hesitated.

"No, I was talking about Neo, who doesn't have a driver's license and has legs too short to reach the pedals. Yes, Yang! I'm talking about you."

"—To be fair, Neo did drive our ambulance once," Mercury added.

"Not my point, Mercury…"

"I can't win a race!" Yang shouted.

"What are you talking about? You're the one who bragged about building her own motorcycle from scratch and winning every race she's ever been in."

"Yeah. Before I lost my arm!"

"And that's relevant, how?"

"Ember Celica isn't the same as a flesh and blood arm! There's no sense of feel or control!"

"Why would you need that?"

"Do you know how handling a bike works?"

"You turn the handle thing and the bike goes. It's not alchemical science."

"That's not—" Yang palmed her face. "Merc, explain. Maybe, she'll listen to you."

"Em, driving isn't as idiot-proof as it sounds," Mercury tried to explain. "It takes precision handling. A millimeter on or off the accelerator can cause a split-second differential lag on the entry and exit of a turn. And—"

"Okay. Just hearing gibberish."

"Basically, it makes a difference that Yang can't control a bike as precisely with a prosthetic. Without the sensitivity, she could overturn the accelerator, go faster than she's supposed to, crash into a wall, and explode."

"…Yes, I could see how that would be a problem," Emerald admitted. "Okay, then. You do it."

"You know I'm not a good driver."

"—Do we really have to win the car? Can't we just steal it?" Yang suggested.

"Oh, yes! Silly me!" Emerald replied sarcastically. "Why didn't the thief think to steal the car?" she then, glared. "The job requires we keep it low-key. I'd love to just snatch the damn thing, but our client wants it taken without any wrinkles. If the idiot is going to race it, it probably wouldn't be a good idea if he showed up with it right after it was stolen, follow?"

"Yeah. Well, my driving isn't the only problem."

"Great! What else?"

"I don't have Bumblebee with me? If you remember, it was one of the things I wanted to take from home, but you were all, 'No, blondie. We don't have room on our field trip for your stupid bike'. Those were your words."

"I don't sound like that."

"—You kinda do," Mercury added.

"Not helping, Mercury. Fine. Yang, the client's willing to reimburse certain expenses. We can buy you a new bike."

""It doesn't work like that."" Yang and Mercury answered simultaneously.

"GAH! I swear, I am getting ready to strangle the both of you. Alright, we'll hash out the details later. Race isn't until next week anyway. For now, we have to make sure we look the part."

"Shopping on our night off. That sounds surprisingly normal for us," Yang commented.

"Right?" Emerald pulled Mercury and Neo's hands out, and dropped some credit cards and lien in their palms. "You kids go entertain yourselves. Buy something flashy. Knowing your tastes, that won't be a problem. Yang and I are going to—AND they're gone. Of course."

Before she could finish her sentence, the two had already run off.

She could see Mercury ducking into a shoe store, ready to sniff all their footwear. Meanwhile, Neo made her way to a Gothic Lolita shop. Given her alternate appearance, the little lady seemed right at home.

Leaving the two to their own devices, Emerald brought Yang through a number of high-end clothing stores. Shops that likely would have tried to kick Mercury and Neo out at first glance—a situation Emerald accurately foresaw and avoided.

Before three tall mirrors, Yang tried on a variety of outfits. One of the shop's assistants was rapidly fetching requests, while another offered additional consultation and assistance.

"I can dress myself…" Yang groaned. "Also, what's wrong with what I usually wear?"

"We need to look stylish and loaded. So, quiet. When you talk, you make the outfits look worse," Emerald shushed.

"Grr…!"

"Hold still."

Emerald put Yang's arms through a rather form-fitting black leather jacket.

"—It goes well with her eyes," the shop assistant piped up.

"Yeah, I can see that working," Emerald nodded. "You got some dark eyeshadow?"

"Right away," worker scurried off.

When the assistant left, Yang took a moment to look at the price tag on the jacket.

"Um…?! Em? Can we afford this?"

"Yes, Yang—I can," Emerald clarified. "What? You think after all the gigs we've been pulling, we'd only have chump change in our pockets?"

"Now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure I'm not getting my share of the cut. Even though Merc and I do all the heavy lifting."

"As our team's treasurer—"

"Excuse me?"

"—I make sure you dopes have enough spending money to keep you happy, while managing our savings so we're not completely screwed on a rainy day."

"You give us allowances?" Yang squinted.

"Like any responsible parent for her ridiculously irresponsible children. Why, oh why, did I have to adopt three dumb brats…"

"You're definitely the mom of the team. So, who's the favorite?"

"Not you."

"It's Neo. Her allowance is bigger than ours, isn't it?"

"Have you seen the price tags on Goth Loli accessories?"

At that moment, one of the shop clerks returned with a make-up kit.

"She'll need pants to go with the jacket. Something with a little gold in it," Emerald ordered.

"Of course," the employee bowed and scurried off again.

Emerald pulled up a chair.

"Sit."

Yang sat down.

"Good, doggie."

"If I hear one more crack—"

"You know, I thought you were growing thicker skin lately, but it might've been my imagination."

Emerald started applying makeup to Yang's features, humming the entire time. The scene resembled a child playing dress up with one of their dolls.

"So, what's up with this job?" Yang asked.

"I already ran you through the background."

"Yeah, but Mercury said something was off about the messenger guy. This gig's different from the usual, right?"

"That loudmouth. And here I wanted you to remain oblivious to the end."

"So?"

"So, no. This job isn't what it looks like on the surface," Emerald said with a serious tone. "And that butler, if that's really what he is, is probably part of the Vermillion Faction. They might be scouting our team—or you."

"The Vermillion Faction," Yang muttered. "Who were they again?"

"You should try reading the news once in a while, instead of doing all those dumb pushups. House Vermillion Wing is one of the four noble houses that form Mistral's Parliament. Big aristocrat family, long lineage, politicians, wealthy landowners, military, you get the gist."

"What do they want with us?"

"Not too sure, yet."

"…You're lying."

"Hey, look at you. Finally wising up sone. Thanks to our company, no less. Should still try to keep up on current events, so you wouldn't need to ask so many stupid questions."

"Not interested in politics," Yang gave a detached sigh. "All that talking, and rules, and *snore*. Not enough action."

"For someone who wants to learn more about themselves, you sure can't take a hint when you get it."

Yang raised a brow to the barb, but Emerald only continued to grin, like dangling a treat in front of the girl's nose.

As if to change the subject, Emerald grasped the bottom of Yang's chin and put the finishing touches to the eyeshadow. Her head was turned side to side to check the angles.

"Does this make us girlfriends now?" Yang asked with sarcastic snide.

"In your dreams, Xiao Long."

"I see you there pretty often," she flirted slightly.

"Hmph. No wonder you've got that cat so lovesick. If she could only see you now. Full-blown, bonafide criminal working with the White Fang."

"I wouldn't say I was a criminal."

"Maybe take a look in the mirror first, before saying that."

Emerald released her and Yang stood before the mirrors again.

An unfamiliar girl stared back in her reflection. From the hot black clothes she wore, to the way her features accentuated the redness in her eyes. It all combined to cut an extremely intimidating figure. It reminded Yang of her mother in a way.

"I look kind of—evil," she muttered.

"Beats wearing a Grimm mask to get your point across. But I gotta admit, not too shabby. You clean up well with a little makeup and the right threads."

"Yang: The Villain version!" she struck a pose.

"AND, the moment's gone."

After Emerald finished paying for the clothes, she ripped the tags off the leather jacket and tossed it to her.

"Don't look at me like that. It's not a gift. I need you to look the part, biker chick."

"Yeah, yeah."

Yang happily slipped the jacket on all the same, and the two began walking through the streets again.

"Hey…you know, you never told me what you and my mom talked about the night we left Vale," Yang started. "Did she tell you how to save Cinder?"

"…She let me in on part of it," Emerald tensed. "Promises to give me the rest later. Eight-to-ten chance she's telling the truth. As expected, the information's not coming cheap, which is why we're still teamed up with your goody-two-shoes ass."

"I'm sorry, Em."

"What?" Emerald asked in a flat tone.

"I know how much Cinder means to you and Mercury. I can try to talk to her. She shouldn't be holding her hostag—"

"Shut. Up," Emerald worded angrily. "We don't need your pity and we'll get what we need without it. Just do what I tell you and don't die. That's all we expect from you."

"Em…"

"Seriously. Shut up for a sec."

Yang, not sure what Emerald was trying to do, had her answer in the next second, when an apple mysteriously appeared in the girl's hand. She looked back at the grocery stand they just passed.

"Do you always steal without a second thought?" Yang narrowed.

"If I can, when I can. Didn't steal your new clothes, did I?"

"And what is it with thieves and apples?"

Emerald shrugged. "Round, red, shiny, sweet." She took a bite out of the fruit with a satisfying crunch. "What's not to like?"

"I'm going back to leave some money."

"Bleeding heart."

"You say it like it's a bad thing."

Emerald breathed a long, tepid sigh.

"Sooner or later, Yang—you'll finally get it through that thick blonde hair of yours, how useless a conscience is…" She pulled out another apple and tossed it to her. "And how much more useful a smooth lift and a quiet step are."

"I'm not going to act like a criminal if I don't have to."

"You've done worse by now. Between illegal smuggling and our mercenary gigs…"

"I only did it because I had to."

"Yeah, that's what they all say in the beginning. 'I did it cause there was no other choice'. 'It was necessary. I'm doing it for good reasons'. Please," Emerald rolled her eyes. "Those are gateway words in this line of work."

"…"

"You can dance around the fact all you like, but you're gonna have to square yourself with that one day. You think it was purely circumstance I picked you up?"

Emerald took the apple in Yang's hand and put it in the girl's mouth.

"And I can tell you right now, what anyone would think if they took one look at you—at your team. You're not the 'good one', or someone doing what they have to. You're just another one of us."

"…"

"Criminal."

Emerald marched off with a crooked smile.