Yang Xiao Long crouched low on the edge of a tall building in the heart of Vale, the city alive with its usual hum of nightlife. Neon lights cast an otherworldly glow on the streets below, where the distant sounds of chatter and car horns echoed into the cool night air. Her outfit reflected the years she'd spent maturing into a seasoned Huntress—sleek, practical, yet unmistakably Yang.
Her sleeveless jacket, dark with golden accents, flared slightly at the hips, cinched at the waist with a belt carrying utility pouches and extra ammunition. Beneath the jacket, a fitted black undershirt with gold trim provided both protection and mobility. Reinforced pants with armored panels hugged her legs, tucked into rugged, battle-worn boots. A short, asymmetrical cape, gold on the inside, draped over one shoulder—a subtle homage to her sister's signature look. Her upgraded Ember Celica bracers pulsed faintly, their glowing orange lines hinting at the power contained within.
Yang's sharp eyes scanned the cityscape, watching for anything out of the ordinary. Tonight had been quiet so far—too quiet, in her opinion—but peace wasn't something she was going to complain about.
As she shifted her stance, something caught her attention. A flicker of movement in the parking garage a block away. She squinted, focusing on the winding ramps as a car steadily made its way up. It wasn't the car itself that piqued her interest, though.
There was someone on top of it.
Yang grinned, her amber eyes gleaming with excitement. "What do we have here?"
Standing to her full height, she flexed her fingers, activating Ember Celica. The bracers hummed to life, faint wisps of heat radiating from them. Taking a deep breath, Yang shifted her weight, rolling her shoulders and bracing herself for what was to come.
"Alright, mystery rider," she said to herself, her grin widening, "let's see what you're up to."
With a sudden burst of power, Ember Celica roared, propelling her high into the air. Yang soared above the city, her golden hair and cape catching the moonlight as she arced toward the parking garage. The thrill of the launch coursed through her, her smirk unwavering as she prepared to land and face whatever—or whoever—awaited her.
A sleek car roared up the ramps of the parking garage, the engine echoing off the concrete walls. The driver, a panicked man in a suit, glanced nervously in his rearview mirror. On top of the car, a shadowy figure clung to the roof, twin blades embedded into the metal to keep her steady as the vehicle climbed higher and higher.
The woman's dark figure remained unmoving despite the erratic swerving of the car. Her every movement was precise, her silhouette ominous against the fluorescent lights flickering past.
Finally, the car reached the top floor, the wide-open space bathed in moonlight. Just as the driver thought he was in the clear, Yang Xiao Long descended from the night sky like a golden meteor. Her landing was loud and deliberate, the impact cracking the concrete beneath her boots. She stood tall, the faint orange glow of Ember Celica casting her shadow forward.
The driver slammed the brakes, tires screeching as the car came to a sudden halt. The force launched the woman on the roof into the air.
Yang smirked, watching her flip forward with practiced grace. The woman landed with a roll, smoothly transitioning into a crouch before standing upright. Her blades, now sheathed at her side, gleamed faintly under the moonlight.
"Kitten," Yang muttered under her breath, her smirk widening.
The mystery woman turned, her head tilted slightly. She wore a sleek black-and-white outfit designed for agility and stealth. The suit hugged her frame, with flexible armor plating in key areas and accents of white running along the sides, mimicking the pattern of a Faunus. Her helmet, minimalist in design, left her cat ears and hair exposed, giving her an air of both elegance and danger.
Blake Belladonna stood there, holding Gambol Shroud in both hands, her amber eyes locked onto Yang with a piercing intensity. She didn't speak at first, her gaze cold and calculating, but after a moment, she turned her head slightly.
"You're in my way," she said, her tone serious and low.
Yang raised an eyebrow, her smirk never faltering. "Miss you too, Kitten."
The driver in the car whimpered, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. Yang glanced at him, then gestured casually over her shoulder. "Go. Get out of here."
The man didn't need to be told twice. He threw the car into reverse, peeling backward down the ramp and out of sight.
Blake didn't move. Her grip on Gambol Shroud remained steady, her stance ready for a fight.
Yang stretched her neck, rolling her shoulders as Ember Celica shifted into combat mode, glowing brighter with energy. "So, what's the deal, Blake? New job? New look? Didn't even call to let me know?"
Blake didn't rise to the bait. "You should leave."
"Not gonna happen," Yang replied, settling into a combat stance. "I'm dying to catch up. And by 'catch up,' I mean knock some sense into you."
Blake lunged first, closing the gap between them with lightning speed. Gambol Shroud slashed forward, but Yang blocked it with a swift motion of Ember Celica, the clash of metal ringing out.
"Feisty!" Yang quipped, grinning as she pushed Blake back.
Blake didn't respond, instead spinning into a sweeping kick that Yang narrowly avoided. Yang countered with a powerful punch, her bracers igniting with a burst of energy. Blake flipped backward, dodging the strike with feline agility, landing gracefully several feet away.
"Been working on those flips, huh?" Yang called out. "You've gotten flashy."
Blake dashed forward again, this time feinting with her blade before pivoting into a strike aimed at Yang's side. Yang caught it with one bracer, using her free hand to throw a punch toward Blake's midsection. Blake twisted, avoiding the blow, and used the momentum to bring her blade down in a wide arc.
"You're slowing down," Blake said, her tone calm but cutting.
Yang chuckled, stepping back just in time to avoid the slice. "Oh, that's cute. You trying to get in my head now?"
Blake's only response was a low growl as she closed the distance again, this time unleashing a rapid series of strikes. Yang blocked each one, her movements fluid and practiced, though Blake's speed kept her on the defensive.
"Okay, okay," Yang said between blocks. "I'll admit, you've gotten good. But you know what?"
Blake didn't answer, her strikes relentless.
"I'm still better."
Yang deflected a particularly aggressive slash with a loud clang! of Ember Celica, then followed up with a blast of concussive force. Blake was thrown back but landed on her feet, sliding to a stop.
"Is that all you've got?" Blake asked, her voice even.
Yang smirked, flexing her fists as her bracers glowed brighter. "Oh, I've got plenty more. And just for the record, Kitten…"
Yang launched herself forward with explosive speed, a streak of golden energy following in her wake.
"I'mma whoop your ass."
Blake's expression softened, and for the first time that night, she smirked, the corners of her lips curling upward. She twirled Gambol Shroud in one hand, the relaxed gesture a stark contrast to her earlier intensity. "You always did have a knack for making things interesting," she said.
Yang tilted her head, still grinning. "What can I say? I like to keep you on your toes."
Blake's smirk widened as she suddenly darted backward, retreating further into the top level of the parking garage. "Then let's see if you can keep up," she teased, her voice echoing in the open air.
"Oh, you're not getting away that easily," Yang said, cracking her knuckles. She dropped into a crouch and slammed her fists into the concrete. Ember Celica released a controlled explosion, causing the ground to quake as a path of destruction rippled toward Blake, sections of the parking structure collapsing in her direction.
Blake's eyes widened momentarily before her instincts kicked in. With feline agility, she flipped, twisted, and rolled her way out of the collapsing ground, her movements precise and fluid. She leaped onto the roof of a nearby car just as the last section of the floor crumbled behind her, her balance perfect despite the instability.
Standing atop the car, Blake turned and looked at Yang with a calm, playful confidence. "Nice try," she said, her tone light. "But my ass remains unwhooped."
Yang couldn't help but laugh. "For now, kitty. But don't get too comfortable. I'm just getting started."
Blake raised an eyebrow, then took a quick glance at the edge of the parking garage. Without hesitation, she dashed toward it, leaping off with an elegance that was almost infuriating. She disappeared over the side, her figure vanishing into the shadows.
Yang stopped at the edge, resting her hands on her hips as she peered over. Below, Blake was already maneuvering her way down the structure, using ledges, beams, and the occasional parked car to descend effortlessly.
"Show-off," Yang muttered with a grin, shaking her head.
Taking a step back, she adjusted her bracers and stretched her arms. "Alright, let's do this."
Yang leaped over the edge of the parking garage, descending in a golden blur. She landed on the ground below with a thunderous crack, the concrete beneath her boots splintering from the impact. Dust and debris kicked up around her as she straightened, her golden hair shimmering in the moonlight.
She glanced up just in time to see Blake darting further into the shadows of the lower levels.
Yang smirked, rolling her shoulders as she began to follow. "Alright, Kitten. Let's see where this game goes."
The fight continued in the shadows of the parking garage, the sound of boots on concrete echoing as Yang and Blake clashed again and again. Blake's movements were quick, agile, and precise, her blades creating arcs of silver light in the dimly lit structure. Yang, however, was relentless, her upgraded Ember Celica releasing bursts of controlled energy with every punch, forcing Blake to stay on the defensive.
Blake darted to the side, flipping over a low barrier and landing smoothly on a parked car. Yang followed, her fist slamming into the hood of the vehicle Blake had just vacated, leaving a visible dent.
"You've gotten faster," Yang said with a smirk, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow.
"And you're just as loud as ever," Blake quipped, vaulting over another car and landing further down the structure.
Before Yang could respond, a familiar car screeched past them, the driver leaning out of the window, waving wildly. "THANK YOU!!" he screamed, his voice fading as he sped out of the garage.
Yang blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Guess he's happy to be alive."
Blake took advantage of the distraction, leaping toward Yang and swinging Gambol Shroud in a quick arc. Yang barely managed to block the strike, the force of it pushing her back a step.
"Not bad," Yang said, regaining her footing. "But you're gonna have to do better than that."
Blake said nothing, her eyes focused and determined. She lunged forward again, her strikes quick and relentless, but Yang countered each one with calculated precision. The sound of metal clashing with metal echoed through the parking garage as their fight raged on.
Then, for just a moment, Blake hesitated. Her footing slipped on a patch of loose gravel near a parked van, and Yang seized the opportunity. With a burst of energy, she pinned Blake against the side of the van, her bracers glowing as she held Blake in place.
"Gotcha," Yang said, her voice triumphant but not unkind.
Blake struggled, her breathing heavy. "Let me go," she said, her tone sharp but edged with frustration.
Yang frowned, noticing something beneath Blake's mask. A faint mark trailed down the side of her neck, just visible in the dim light.
"What's this?" Yang asked, ignoring Blake's protests as she reached up and carefully removed the mask.
"Yang, don't—" Blake started, but it was too late.
As the mask came off, Yang's eyes widened in shock. A jagged scar ran from just under Blake's left eye down to her neck, stark and unmistakable against her pale skin.
"Blake…" Yang whispered, her voice barely audible.
Blake snatched the mask back, quickly putting it on and stepping away as Yang released her. "It's nothing," Blake said curtly, avoiding Yang's gaze.
"Nothing?" Yang repeated, her tone incredulous. "That's not 'nothing,' Blake. What happened?"
Blake hesitated for a moment before finally speaking. "I got ambushed. A fight broke out, and… I got this."
Yang's expression softened, concern replacing her earlier bravado. "Who did this to you?"
Blake's eyes, hidden beneath her mask, flicked toward the direction the fleeing car had gone. "It wasn't a random driver, Yang. That man? Lucas Rivera. He's the one who attacked me. And I was this close to bringing him in before you showed up."
Yang's jaw dropped. "Wait. That guy? The guy I just let drive off? You're saying he's the one who did this to you?"
"Yes, Yang," Blake said, her voice sharp. "And thank you for interrupting my mission."
Yang ran a hand through her hair, her expression a mix of guilt and frustration. "Blake, why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you call me for help?"
Blake sighed, shaking her head. "I had it under control. I didn't need help."
Yang stepped closer, her voice softening. "Well, clearly you didn't, because he's still out there. Let me help you. We'll find him together and make him pay."
Blake hesitated, her posture stiff. "Are you willing to follow my orders?"
Yang's smirk returned, but instead of a quip, she stepped forward and gently pushed Blake back against the van. Before Blake could say anything, Yang leaned in, pressing her lips firmly to Blake's.
The kiss was brief but intense, and as Yang pulled away, her expression turned serious. "I'll follow you anywhere, Blake."
Blake blinked, her composure momentarily shaken. Then, slowly, she smiled behind her mask. "Alright. Let's go."
Yang grinned, cracking her knuckles. "Lead the way, Kitten."
Inside the warehouse, Lucas Rivera paced the floor, his boots echoing against the concrete. A group of burly thugs followed him, each armed to the teeth. Lucas was a wiry man with a sly grin and an air of arrogance that radiated off him as he barked orders.
"Alright, listen up!" Lucas shouted, pointing at his men. "Guard every entrance. I don't want any surprises tonight. We've got company arriving soon, and we need this place locked down tighter than my old man's wallet!"
The thugs chuckled nervously, though their expressions betrayed unease. Lucas wasn't known for his patience, and failure wasn't an option.
Outside, perched on the side of the warehouse by a grimy window, Blake Belladonna and Yang Xiao Long observed the scene. The cool night air wrapped around them, but Blake's focus was sharp as ever, her amber eyes narrowing at the sight of Lucas.
Yang leaned against the wall, her arms crossed. "So, what's the plan? Go in, fists blazing? I say we bust through the front door, take 'em down before they know what hit 'em."
Blake glanced at her partner with a calm but firm expression. "No. You're following me, remember? This is my mission. And my plan is stealth."
Yang groaned, tossing her head back. "Ugh, fine. But if things go sideways, I'm punching someone. Just letting you know."
Blake allowed herself a faint smirk. "I'd expect nothing less."
Minutes later, inside the warehouse, two thugs stood in a dimly lit hallway near a stack of crates, casually chatting.
"I'm just saying," one of them said, waving a wrench for emphasis, "you're better off going with neutral colors. Beige walls, maybe a gray couch—it's classy, timeless."
The other thug frowned. "Beige? That's boring, man. I want something bold. Like red. Or orange."
Before the conversation could continue, a clang! echoed through the hall. The thug with the wrench barely had time to react before a piece of metal came flying out of the shadows, hitting him square in the face and knocking him out cold.
The other thug froze, his eyes wide. "What the—"
Two more thugs rounded the corner, alerted by the noise. All three raised their weapons, aiming toward the direction the metal had come from.
Out of the shadows, Blake slowly emerged, her black-and-white outfit blending seamlessly with the dim lighting. Her calm, confident stride made her look more like a predator than a person.
"There she is!" one of the thugs shouted. "Take her down!"
They opened fire, but Blake moved like water, weaving through the projectiles with effortless grace. Her agility left them disoriented, and before they knew it, she was upon them.
Blake struck the nearest thug with a spinning kick, sending him crashing into a stack of crates. She ducked under the second thug's swing and countered with a quick jab to his midsection, knocking the wind out of him before sweeping his legs out from under him. The third thug tried to retreat, but Blake closed the gap in an instant, disarming him with a quick flick of Gambol Shroud before delivering a final blow that sent him sprawling.
The three men lay unconscious at her feet as Blake turned, her focus unwavering. But her attention snapped back when the sound of heavy boots echoed down the hallway.
Five more thugs emerged, their faces set with determination as they rushed toward her. Blake tensed, readying herself for the fight.
Just as the first thug closed in, the wall next to them exploded in a shower of concrete and dust, the force of the blast knocking all five men unconscious before they even had a chance to attack.
Blake coughed lightly, waving the dust away with her hand. As the debris settled, she saw Yang stepping through the newly made hole in the wall, her arms crossed and a wide grin plastered on her face.
"Guess you could say I broke the ice," Yang quipped, brushing dust off her jacket.
Blake groaned, pressing a hand to her forehead. "Seriously?"
Yang shrugged. "What? It was right there. Too good to pass up."
Blake shot her a look but didn't argue. "Next time, try to use a quieter approach."
"Hey," Yang replied, smirking as she stepped over the unconscious thugs. "You said I could punch someone if things went sideways. This is me keeping my word."
Blake sighed, her lips curving into the faintest of smiles despite herself. "Let's keep moving. Lucas won't wait forever."
"Lead the way, Kitten," Yang said, cracking her knuckles. "Let's finish this."
The main part of the warehouse was dimly lit, with Lucas Rivera standing in the center of the room, flanked by a group of thugs. The sound of distant commotion reached them, echoing through the steel walls. Lucas frowned, adjusting his jacket nervously.
"Stay sharp!" he barked, pointing toward the hallway where the noise had come from. "Whoever's out there, they're not walking out of here. Got it?"
The thugs nodded, their grips tightening on their weapons as they took defensive positions around the room.
Before Lucas could give another order, a black ribbon shot out of the shadows, wrapping tightly around his leg.
"What the—?!" Lucas yelped as the ribbon yanked him off his feet and dragged him backward. He hit the ground with a loud thud, his body sliding across the floor toward the darkness.
The guards turned in confusion, their attention split.
That was when Yang landed near them with a loud crack, her golden hair catching the faint light as her bracers glowed ominously.
"Hey, boys," Yang said with a wide grin. "Care to dance?"
The guards didn't hesitate. They charged at Yang, weapons raised, but she was already moving. Her first punch sent a thug flying into a stack of crates, Ember Celica igniting with a burst of energy. Another swung a crowbar at her, but she ducked effortlessly, countering with a knee to his midsection and a powerful uppercut that knocked him out cold.
Meanwhile, Blake stepped out of the shadows, her Gambol Shroud slicing through the air as she knocked weapons out of the guards' hands with pinpoint precision. Her movements were fluid, her strikes calculated, and her focus razor-sharp.
"Blake!" Yang called, ducking under a wild swing. "What do you think about that café near the old bookstore for our next date? You know, the one with the giant pastries?"
Blake disarmed another thug and spun toward Yang with an incredulous look. "Are you seriously asking me this now?"
Yang shrugged, blocking another attack with her bracers. "What? Multitasking is important in a relationship!"
Blake sighed, knocking out a thug with a swift kick. "Fine. I liked that place. But we're not going if you're just going to eat three pies again."
Yang grinned, sending another thug sprawling with a spinning punch. "No promises, Kitten!"
As the guards dwindled, Blake turned her attention back to Lucas. He was scrambling to his feet, his eyes darting around the room in search of an escape. Blake began stalking toward him, her every step deliberate and intimidating.
"Lucas," she called, her voice calm but icy. "We're not done yet."
Lucas froze, his back pressed against a stack of crates. "L-Look, we can talk about this, right? No need for violence!"
Blake raised an eyebrow. "You're out of time for talking."
Before she could close the distance, Yang called out. "Hey, Blake! Little help over here?"
Blake turned her head to see Yang surrounded by the last few guards, her back against a wall. Yang was holding her own, but the sheer number of attackers was slowing her down.
Blake hesitated, her eyes flicking back to Lucas. Then, with a sigh, she turned and dashed toward Yang, her ribbon lashing out to disarm two of the guards before she slid into the fray.
The two of them fought in perfect sync, their movements complementing each other as they took down the remaining guards. Yang's powerful strikes created openings that Blake exploited with precision, and within moments, the last thug hit the ground, groaning in defeat.
Yang wiped her hands and turned to Blake with a grin. "Thanks for the assist. So, that's a yes on the café, then?"
Blake pinched the bridge of her nose. "Focus, Yang."
Behind them, Lucas saw his opportunity. While they were distracted, he sprinted toward the nearest window and threw himself through it without a second thought.
The sound of shattering glass snapped Blake and Yang's attention back to the scene. They turned just in time to hear a loud, panicked scream from outside, followed by a sickening thud.
Blake and Yang exchanged a glance, their expressions a mix of disbelief and amusement.
"Did he just…?" Yang began.
Blake nodded, crossing her arms. "He did."
Yang let out a laugh, shaking her head. "I almost feel bad. Almost."
Blake smirked faintly. "Well, he saved us the trouble."
Yang stretched, turning toward the shattered window. "Guess we'd better go see what's left of him."
Blake sighed, adjusting Gambol Shroud. "And maybe next time, let's stick to the plan."
Yang grinned as they headed toward the window. "Oh, come on. That was way more fun."
The whine of the ambulance siren cut through the quiet night as paramedics carefully loaded Lucas Rivera onto a stretcher. His face was pale, contorted in pain, his arm held awkwardly in a sling. The once-proud criminal was now reduced to a pathetic figure, groaning as he was wheeled into the waiting vehicle.
A pair of police officers stood near the ambulance, flipping through their notepads and exchanging hushed words.
"Lucas Rivera," one of them muttered, scanning the notes. "Wanted for extortion, smuggling, weapons trafficking, assault… you name it, this guy's done it."
The other officer shook his head in disbelief. "Took us long enough to catch him. We've been chasing this guy for years. What do you think changed? Why now?"
The first officer shrugged. "No idea. Maybe he just slipped up for once. Or maybe someone finally decided they'd had enough of him."
The second officer smirked. "Well, whoever it was, they saved us a lot of trouble."
Unseen above them, on top of a nearby billboard, Blake Belladonna and Yang Xiao Long silently watched the scene unfold. The neon glow of the city reflected faintly off their silhouettes as the ambulance doors slammed shut.
Blake sat cross-legged on the edge of the billboard, her black-and-white Huntress outfit blending seamlessly with the shadows. She removed her helmet and set it beside her, letting the night air brush through her hair. Her amber eyes lingered on the ambulance below, her expression cold and contemplative.
"I should've made him pay," Blake said, her voice quiet but laced with frustration.
Yang, crouching beside her, glanced over, concern flickering in her eyes. "Blake—"
"He deserved it," Blake interrupted, her voice hard. She raised a hand to her face, tracing the jagged scar running from beneath her left eye down to her neck. Her touch was slow and deliberate, her gaze distant. "It wasn't just a fight. It was deliberate. He took his time. He made sure I'd remember it."
Yang's usual smirk was gone, replaced by a solemn expression as she watched her partner. Her fists tightened, a spark of anger flaring in her eyes before she forced herself to relax. She took a breath and softened her tone.
"Blake, he's going away for a long time," Yang said, her voice steady. "He won't hurt anyone else. That should be enough. Right?"
Blake turned her head toward Yang, her amber eyes meeting Yang's lilac ones. The question hung heavy in the air, unspoken but understood.
Yang leaned closer, her tone quieter now. "It should be."
Blake exhaled, some of the tension in her shoulders easing. A small, faint smile crossed her lips as she glanced back at the ambulance. "Thanks, Yang. For… being here. For everything."
Yang shifted closer, resting her head gently against Blake's. The warmth between them pushed away the cold night air, and for a moment, the world felt still.
"Anything for you, Kitten," Yang said softly, her voice carrying both comfort and sincerity.
Blake smiled, leaning into Yang's touch as the weight of the night began to lift. After a quiet moment, she turned her head slightly, her voice lighter but still carrying its usual edge.
"You want to come back to my apartment?" Blake asked. "I could use the company."
Yang's grin returned, her eyes sparkling with familiar mischief. "I thought you'd never ask."
The two stayed on the billboard for just a moment longer, watching the ambulance pull away into the city. Then, with a shared glance, they disappeared into the shadows, side by side, ready to face whatever came next—together.