AN: So this chapter is a nice 4,040 words, a nice round number, I believe. Sorry I didn't get this out earlier, but there was unspeakable tragedy within the family that sapped all of my creativity for a good long while.

Anyway, in this chapter, you get to see some of the consequences of the Crimson Claw strike on the hospital. As a warning, there is a lot of swearing in this, as well as some racial slurs. The Prime Councilor's speech isn't all that great, I'll admit, but I was pretty tired when I wrote his words. My apologies. We also get to meet a new character, an OC. There'll be at least one more OC to be introduced later.

Thanks for all your support! The next chapter might take a bit, I'm going away on Army training, once again! Woohoo! As always, please read, enjoy, and review!

Rising Tensions

"Okay, dad. Thanks. Uh-huh. And you're sure that she's fine? Good. Dad…I want to be there, but…you're right. She would understand. Thanks, love you too. Bye."

Yang ended the call with her father and hanged up the phone, heart heavy. Taiyang was at the hospital right now, and she wished that she could be there as well, but she had already taken off so many days from the bar. Yeah, she could trust her employees to run it without her in a pinch, but she couldn't ask Michelle to come in and act in her stead again…the poor woman had a life of her own, and covering for Yang had severely cut into it, bonuses be damned. And so, here she was, in the small staff break room that was tucked in the back of the building, worried sick and unable to go to her sister.

At least Ruby was okay. She had a short remission into respiratory failure, but was able to come out of it on her own. There had been a brief worry that she had had an allergic reaction to morphine, but it had been determined that her lapse had been caused by shock at discovering the extent of her injuries. She hadn't shown any negative reaction for quite a bit of time after getting that first dose, which was actually very lucky for Ruby. Not many pain medicines were quite as good as morphine, and Ruby was going to be in pain for quite a while.

The image of Ruby lying in her hospital bed, silent and still, flashed through Yang's mind, and she grit her teeth as she slammed her fist against the doorframe. She felt so damn useless! And now? Now Weiss was also in the hospital, and Blake was not her usual self. There was a distance to her that reminded Yang of their first year in Beacon, when Blake had wanted to desperately to go after Roman and the White Fang. Not only that, but there was also a darkness to her that Yang didn't recognize at all, that she couldn't place, and its newness was unsettling. That and all the other problems…

She sucked in a deep, fortifying breath. Time to get back to work, she told herself as she fixed a smile on her face and headed back to the front.

The bar was crowded, which was good for business but taxing on her nerves. And given that the atmosphere wasn't one of cheerful revelry like it usually was, but was instead one of gloomy moodiness wasn't helping anything, either. Everyone was on edge, anger and fear a sick undercurrent that was felt everywhere, and she glanced to one of the wall mounted televisions that was normally on a sports channel, mostly ones focusing on martial arts tournaments. Now? Now every television was on a news channel, where the talking heads were discussing the recent attacks from the Crimson Claw. Anxiety surged in her gut, and she worried her lip as she began to refill beer glasses. Already her contacts in the underground were hinting at danger, of a rising rage against the Faunus, a rage fueled by suspicion and paranoia. The Crimson Claw had spies amongst us, the whispers in the dark said, we can't trust any of the Faunus. They aren't all part of the Crimson Claw, but we will never know which of them are loyal to us…or the Crimson Claw.

The worst part of it was that Yang knew exactly how that suspicion felt. Ruby's room at the hospital was confidential…the hospital took patient confidentiality extremely seriously. Blake had researched it…turned out that even doctors had been fired and lost their licenses for discussing patients outside of work. Even so, the Crimson Claw had known precisely where Ruby had been. They most certainly had a spy within the hospital, and if they had a spy there, who was to say that one of her customers sitting in her bar right now wasn't in league with the Claw, wasn't keeping tabs on her because of her close ties with Weiss?

She paused, hating the feeling within her as she cautiously glanced at some of her regular Faunus customers who were noticeably on edge, quiet, hunched down, careful not to make eye contact with anyone else. Who amongst them could be spies for the Claw? Art Spiegel, the quiet Mouse Faunus sitting at the bar? Paddy Wellington, the normally cheerful Bear Faunus? Or how about Ferdinand de la Ronda, the peaceful, laid-back Bull Faunus who worked down in the docks, currently sharing a booth with Paddy? They had been coming here for as long as she had had this bar, likely drawn to her pro-Faunus rights ideologies. But one of them might have come here for darker reasons...

"Oi, everyone, shut up, it's the Council!" someone shouted from deeper in the bar, and the room came to a hush as richly dressed men and women filed on screen, faces somber. The Prime Councilor took his place at the podium, facing the camera flashes and unseen crowd of reporters with a sense of saddened dignity.

"Ladies and gentlemen of Vale. I come before you with a sense of profound sadness within my heart. Two days ago, the extremist organization known as the Crimson Claw struck the Vale Memorial Hospital in an attack that has been linked to the strike on the Vale Headquarters of the Schnee Dust Company. These attacks have received condemnation not only from the other Kingdoms, but earlier today, the White Fang offered our office their most sincere condolences and have given us information on the leaders of the Crimson Claw, which is known to be a splinter cell of the White Fang. Given their cooperation in this matter, and due to their willingness to work for peace, I urge the citizens of Vale to not consider the White Fang an extremist organization.

"However, the Crimson Claw is becoming a threat we can no longer ignore." He paused, looking down and rearranging his notes, and Yang had a sudden feeling of foreboding. The Kingdom Council had always been apathetic at best towards the White Fang. Why the change of heart? As if to answer her, the Prime Councilor looked up, grey eyes steely and resolved. "In light of their growing organization and brutality, the Crimson Claw is no longer to be considered an extremist organization. The Council has voted unanimously to declare war on the Crimson Claw."

Yang's mouth turned to ash, the world graying for a moment as the room erupted into an uproar, drowning out the Prime Councilor's next words. Declare war? On the Crimson Claw? How the hell was that going to work?! As a Huntress, she wouldn't go out on a Hunt unless she had a target to go against, a den or nest, or even a pack. It didn't have to be stationary, but it still had to exist! No one knew where the Crimson Claw was…it was like declaring war on ghosts…they can appear and attack you at will, but there was no target for Vale to attack in return. This declaration of war would only serve to heighten tensions between humans and the Faunus.

Finally, the din ebbed enough for the Prime Councilor's words to be heard again. "-once more, the Council urges all of the citizens of Vale to call the authorities in the event of seeing anyone or anything suspicious. Do not confront the situation yourselves. Any acts of vigilantism will be prosecuted. There are difficult times ahead of us, and we must stand united against the barbarism of the Crimson Claw. May Vale stand strong against the rising threat. Good night."

The televisions returned to VNN, and Lisa Lavender and Cyril Ian began to discuss the short speech. Yang tuned them out, going back to serving drinks. The Prime Councilor was right about one thing, there were dark times ahead.

Movement at the corner of her eye caught her attention. In the sea of motion that was her bar, the frantic jerk and twitch stood out, almost screaming of a desire to flee. She turned her head, frowning as she registered that it was Art hurriedly pulling on his jacket, face tight and guarded. Why was he leaving so quickly? He generally stayed longer. She glanced at the TV and then back to him, eyes narrowing. He was leaving immediately after the PC declared war on the Crimson Claw. Coincidence? Her hands tightened into fists behind the bar.

But then Art's jacket sleeve hit a patron behind him, and the man turned with a frown. Upon seeing the round ears atop Art's head, the frown turned into an ugly glower, and Yang took stock of the slightly unfocused look in the man's eyes, the flush in his cheeks. Drunk. Very drunk, if his unsteady stance was anything to go by. Well-muscled, a fake tan, a too expensive haircut, and his shirt was a little too tight. Even before he spoke, Yang had him pegged. He was likely some gym rat with a way-too-high opinion of himself and too much testosterone. "Hey, watch where you're going, you furry freak!" he slurred angrily.

"I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean-" Art started to reply, but the man, whom Yang didn't recognize as a regular, didn't give him the chance to finish.

"Don't fucking talk to me, you animal! Fucking think you have the right to be here, with humans…shit like that is why you fuckers attacked the hospital!"

Yang blinked at the outburst, surprised at the belligerence in the man's voice. Not only that, but those around him merely watched and didn't make a move to hold him back. "Please, I didn't mean to. I just want to go home!" Art pleaded.

"Why, didn't like that we declared war on your Crimson Claw buddies?" the man sneered. "Don't fucking like that we're finally tired of your shit?!" he said as he shoved Art back into the bar.

As he collided with the bar hard enough to rattle some of the glasses and bottles that Yang hadn't policed up, he turned and looked at her, and she froze upon seeing his eyes.

Terror. Stark terror. No guilt, no anger, just a soul deep fear for his safety. In a flash, she remembered some of his stories about how his grandparents and their ancestors had been forced to live in Menagerie, of the brutality that they endured, brutality that was unheard of today. Art knew full well the cruelty that humans were capable of from stories he learned at his grandparents' knees. And now, because of the Prime Councilor's declaration of war, such discrimination could very well become the reality.

I am a Huntress. It's my job to protect the weak. How dare I think that Art is part of the Crimson Claw? How dare I let this happen?!

"Hey, asshole, knock it off!" she barked, and the man paused in the midst of raising a fist, the bar going quiet at her words.

"Why should I?" he slurred into the sudden silence, fixing his unfocused eyes on Yang. "You see how he's trying to flee right after war was declared! He's probably a mole or some shit."

"You ever think that he's leaving because he's afraid that some prick might try and start a fight with him just to be an asshole?" she snarled back, and he narrowed his eyes at her.

"Fucking knew it," he murmured, stumbling slightly. "I heard the rumors that you were fucking that Faunus cunt, but I didn't know that you were sympathetic to ALL these animals!"

Beer bottles and glasses crashed to the floor as she vaulted over the bar, Ember Celica activating over her fists. "You wanna say that to my face, fucker?" she hissed, a furious flame running under her skin as her eyes bled into their enraged red and her hair began to glow a radiant gold.

"You heard me, you dyke slut! Can't even fuck your own spec-!"

She didn't know what stopped her from punching his drunk head off as she grabbed his shirt and jerked him towards her as her other arm drew back for the punch that would at the very least land him in the hospital. She did enjoy the look of terror in his drunken eyes, though. But somehow she resisted the urge to punch his belligerent nose in, and instead bodily dragged his drunk ass over to the door before throwing him out into the street. "Congratulations, fuck-knuckle, your ass just got banned. I never want to see your face again!"

"Like I want to come here again, you whore!" he shouted angrily. "Shitty ass booze and sympathetic to those that we should put down like the animals they fucking are!"

"Eat a dick, bitch! And have fun telling your buddies how you almost got your ass kicked by a girl!" she retorted before slamming the door on his angry retort. She stood there for a moment, taking multiple deep, calming breaths. She shouldn't have dropped to his level, but his kind really made her sick. The fury at his words and insinuations still buzzed through her, and as she listened to his drunk tirade that was muffled by the door, she knew that she wasn't in any condition to keep the bar open. Someone might say the wrong thing, and she wouldn't be able to hold back. She was a pugilist, dammit, and when somebody wanted to fight, her instinct was to respond in kind!

She turned and faced the crowd that was regarding her with varying degrees of concern. One asshole doesn't change the fact that most of your customers are good people, she reminded herself. "Sorry folks, bar's closing for the night. Careful of the broken glass. Esmera, can you handle wrapping up tabs?" she asked, and Esmera, the senior server on tonight, nodded. As people began to either make their way out the door or to the register to get their cards, she made her way to Art, noticing how people gave her a decent berth. "You alright?" she asked, and he nodded. She still noticed how he trembled slightly. "Hey, you can wait a while before leaving, make sure he's gone." Not waiting for his reaction, she turned and scanned the milling crowd. "Hey, Paddy, Ferdinand!" she called out, and the two made their way over to her. "Can you guys make sure Asshole McFuckwit doesn't bother Art when you guys leave? I don't think he'll stick around, but some people are a special kind of dick." At their nods, she felt herself relax a bit. "Thanks. Your last round is on me. Sorry for the trouble."

Ferdinand shrugged, massive shoulder rolling. "It's okay. You are good people, Yang. Is why we always come here, right fellows?" The other two agreed with him, and Yang shot them a thankful nod before going to get the broom and dustpan. Time to clean up the broken glass from when she jumped over the counter.

Three hours later, she was alone in the bar, idly cleaning up the last of the night's messes, making sure all the tables, booths, and the bar was clear of all sticky residue. The last of her helpers had left quite some time ago, and while the front door was unlocked, it was well past even the normal closing time, and most of the lights were off. So it came as a surprise when the door opened. Still a bit riled from before, she felt her pace quicken instinctively. "Hey, sorry, but we're closed," she called out with a false cheer as she looked up, trying to take stock of her visitor in the dim lighting. Female, wearing a dark hoodie with the hood up. Slim but slightly short, but curvy enough, even though her dark, baggy clothes did quite a bit to hide that fact. "We're open tomorrow, though."

"I know you're closed," came the soft reply from her visitor. "However, I have business other than drinking away my sorrows to discuss with you."

She came close enough to distinguish other details. She was wearing cargo pants, and her hands had quite a few rings. Something was slung across her back, and Yang's heart rate picked up once more. Weapon, her instincts whispered. The girl moved with the confident, lithe grace of a fighter or a dancer, too, and Yang stood slightly taller, squaring her shoulders. "You're going to stop, miss," she said, voice brooking no argument. "I'm not in the mood for a fight, if that's the business you came here to conduct. So, why don't you take that weapon off your back before I make you."

The girl stopped, paused, and then reach up, pulling the hood off her head, revealing pixie cut and vibrantly blue hair that had neon pink bangs, and quite a few piercings in both her ears, as well as modest silver studs in her right eyebrow and her left nostril. Then she slowly and cautiously grabbed the strap running across her chest before pulling it over her head. Yang frowned in confusion when she saw that it was a violin case. A violin? That didn't make any sense.

Wait…

Didn't that one Beacon student use a violin against the Crimson Claw?

Reverently, the girl laid the case on the bar, opening it up with twin clicks. "I'm here for a fight, but not with you, Yang Xiao Long," she said, voice still soft, a note of grief noticeably present. "In fact, I believe that we have somewhat similar objectives." She laid a gentle hand on the ebony black and gleaming violin that lay within the case, and Yang suppressed a shudder that came out of nowhere. That violin…

The girl…no, young woman, looked up at her with sad lavender eyes, and Yang noticed that she was actually quite pretty behind the grief that dominated her features. Her pixie cut only accentuated her elfin features. "You've met my half-sister before, yes?"

Yang wracked her brain, trying to pair the tall, willowy girl whom she had met so briefly with a name. "Iva, right?"

Her answer was a sad, sad smile. "So you remember her name. That means so much to me." She paused, face crumpling in grief for a moment before she composed herself. "My sister…was one of the few in the family to really love me. After all, I was the result of an indiscretion on my father's part, and was thus an embarrassment for all involved. But Iva…her heart was pure, and she was always encouraging me to achieve the most that I could. It was her that convinced me to attend Beacon, and it was her that convinced me to go into music." She paused, and then thrust out her hand. "My name is Melody Derevo, by the way."

Yang took the offered hand and shook it, noting the firm, confident strength behind it, strength the belied her thin frame. "I think I've seen your name at the music store," she mentioned as the handshake ended and Melody gracefully hopped up onto a barstool.

Melody shrugged at Yang's words, face nonchalant. "I've sold a few albums, nothing to get too hyped up about. I found passion in music, and I'm glad that Iva supported me through all the hard times of trying to get accepted. And now, her quiet radiance is gone from the world forever. We've all come to terms that we might fall against Grimm, but for sentient beings with souls to slay her…I cannot express the rage and grief that seized me upon finding out that Iva was dead. That's why I came here."

"The business you mentioned earlier?"

"The business I mentioned earlier. See, I desperately want to find those responsible for killing my sister, and make them pay in ways that make their worst nightmares seem tame in comparison."

Yang glanced again at the violin lying on her bar. Something was terribly unsettling about the black, gleaming instrument. "With that?"

Melody spun the barstool to face the case and its instrument. "Not many people realize the raw power of music. Did you know that the violin is considered the prince of instruments?" she asked softly as she once more rested her fingertips on the gleaming wood body. "It can produce notes that hearten the body, bring joy to the soul, or bring skin-crawling terror to its audience…" she trailed off, eyes distant. Then she smiled, a cruel, thin-lipped thing that made Yang's skin crawl. "Did you also know that the Devil is said to play the fiddle?" she asked as she ran her fingers up the violin's neck to brush against the tuning pegs that Yang noticed were an unsettling bone-white in color. "It's said that any mortal to use his fiddle could command the very hosts of hell. Now, of course, that's just crazy. I've never encountered any demon or devil, and I doubt hell exists. However…."

Yang couldn't help it. "However?"

Melody's eyes glinted dangerously as she continued to grin that unsettling grin. "However, if one's Aura was music based, why, one might be able to make his or her opponent's skin dance right off their body." Then her cruel smile fled away from her face, and despite the brightly colored hair her youthful face, Yang could see the Reaper in the grim cast to her face. "Their skin could dance off…or worse."

Yang really didn't want to know what 'worse' constituted. "Music based Aura run in your family?" she asked past a dry mouth.

Melody's face lost some of its harshness. "Yeah. Iva had some skill with it. The violin she was using that night was my second best, and she was only borrowing it while she was repairing her primary weapon. It had been damaged at school during one of their practice bouts. Maybe if she had had her weapon, she would still be alive. Or maybe if she had decided to not go in that night…" Once more, her face crumpled in grief as her voice thickened with tears, and Yang shifted uneasily. Melody gave one heart-wrenching sob, hand forming into a fist atop her violin as she grit her teeth and swallowed the rest of her anguish. After a moment, she composed herself, clearing her throat as she looked up to Yang with red, shimmering eyes. "I don't…I don't blame you or your sister for what happened, and my sister volunteered to guard your sister. I know that without a doubt, she would have been glowing with pride to know that she held the enemy off long enough for Weiss to arrive on the scene and protect Ruby. Hers was a life well spent."

Yang nodded solemnly. "But your sister is still dead, and you'll never see her again."

Melody nodded, tears beginning to course down her cheek. "You're right," she croaked. "I'll never get another cheerful email talking about her day, never get a phone call and gossip about boys, never again meet her for coffee or to go shopping. But it's not your fault. It's the fault of the Crimson Claw. And this I swear to you," she said, voice becoming as hard as steel. "I will not let her death go unpunished, nor unavenged. Yang Xiao Long…as one Huntress to another, I ask to join with you and yours until this hunt is complete and those that have trespassed against us so terribly are brought to justice!"

Yang stared at Melody for a long moment, gauging the determination in her before coming to a decision. She made her way around the back of the bar and grabbed her most expensive bottle of whiskey. Wordlessly, she poured two shots, and slid one of them over to Melody. Yang lifted her shot glass in salute, and Melody followed suit. The glasses clinked together, and they both slammed the shots back simultaneously. "Welcome to the team," Yang bit through the whiskey's fire, and the grin that she got in return would have made the fiercest Beowulf turn tail and run.

The Crimson Claw had no idea how much trouble they were in…