Chapter 6: A Killer

Yang Xiao Long

Yang's knuckles popped against Vert's jaw bone. The six foot sailer tumbled face first into the side of a tables. The man was out like that, blood tinted drool leaking from his mouth and consciousness a million miles away. He had his mates to pick him up, probably smack him around some to keep a concussion at bay. That was the risk of stepping into the ring, well if shoved aside furniture counted as a ring, with a huntress. Even without Aura, she was leagues better than this shit-hole's finest.

"Alright, who's next?! I want another round!" Yang was feeling the high tonight. He hit like a baby in shock, but the few licks he landed stung in just the right ways. She hoped the next one could leave at least a bruise.

"We've had enough, huntress. We get your lot are all better than us, you don't need to kick the normal people into the mud!" one woman grumbled from the audience, though Yang couldn't make her out well enough. Two-third of a bottle of Mistral's Finest down and everyone's face started to blur like melting wax.

"Oh trust me, I ain't being a huntress with you all. I'm fair and square." The room felt tilted to the left and nothing quite at level, except for Yang's body. Her muscles knew what to do, even if she had turned her brain into rum soup. "Don't be a wuss, come on~"

"Fine." A different girl, this one had a rougher voice, less inclined to talk shit. Fighters always were. Her hair was held back into a ponytail, and Yang noticed the duel axe sigil of the Valen army tattooed to her chest, right above the cut off, with some words she was way too drunk to read. Soldier girl had a boxer's stance, hips straight, shoulders up, head down, and knees bent.

"Thanks for your servus," Yang slurred. Someone needed to hit her in the jaw to fix that. "Please don't take me kicking your ass as lack of gratitude." Yang meant it seriously, but the girl's jaw clenched down hard, she was gonna swing.

First right punch Yang took willingly for being a smart ass. The knock to her teeth sobered her up so the follow through from the left was slapped away like nothing. She stepped back, spat a little bit of blood on the floor, and defaulted to combat position. The girl was fast, but telegraphed her moves. All Yang needed to do was wait for a—

"Cops!" the door man shouted from the bar's entrance. He bounced the door against someone's leg, the officer already in. Everyone looked at Yang with either slacked jaws or clenched glares. Totally unfair. Just because she was the wife of the chief of police didn't make her—yeah, no it's fair.

"Excuse us," the first officer, a fox faunus forced himself passed the doorman. The second one strutted into the building like she had the deed to the place. The white legs of her open trench coat followed right after the heavy click of her heels. The woman's black top had only the mark of Vale's police on her, the national sigil tagged to her chest. Blake Belladonna didn't need a uniform. People loved her or feared her, no one dared disrespect her. Except Yang.

"Hey babe, what are you doing here?" The fight's audience all split away to their corners. There was already an exodus of people vanishing out the back. If Blake was actually pulling a sting, there would be cops there, too. Dumb move. Idiots. Watching an illegal fight wasn't illegal. Just hosting and fighting in it very much was. Yang was fucked.

"Bar fights. Really?" Blake raised her eyebrow at Yang, the only one still standing in the center of the room. Blood stained her lips, and her hair had to be a mess right now. Yang smiled and Blake turned away from her and back to the bartender, who just so happened to own the place. He was scurrying through legal papers, probably not his first mass arrest. "Do I need to even ask if you have the permits? It's clearly not up to code."

"Chief Belladonna, I know what it looks lik—"

"Don't," Blake raised her hand to shut him up before he really dug himself in too deep, "for now, this is a warning. If you host one more fight, I'll come back with a warrant and drag you all out of this place. Not one more fight." Everyone deflated. The crowd was melting together into a nice soup with the tension gone. Yang smiled, feeling somehow responsible.

"Yes Ma'am. Bar's closed, everyone out!" Soon as the order was given people nearly trampled each other to go. Several gave Blake a nod goodbye, maybe her leniency might even win her a few votes. Might lose her some, too.

Yang sashayed over to Blake. The chief of police hadn't lost her tenseness, it showed in her shoulders and tightly shut jaw. "Thanks for not getting everyone in trou—"

"Yang Xiao Long, you're under arrest for assault. Would you like me to read you your rights?" Chief Belladonna listed like a grocery list. Sure, it wouldn't be the first thing on Yang's arrest record, but first from her own wife.

"Blake, come the fuck on, really?" Blake ignored the sass. She forced Yang against the bar. The hard oak would have bruised Yang's stomach if she had been any rougher. From that position, expertly Blake snapped handcuffs to the huntress. As if a steel toy could do anything to stop her. "Handcuffs? My right arm can literally disconnect, you've basically given me a flail!" Blake was undeterred. Apparently she had nothing to say, just dead glares. Blake dragged Yang by the cuffs outside. It was raining that night. Droplets popped off Yang's head as she was carted towards the chief's personal car. "Blake, damn it why are you doing this!"

Blake popped the back door open, treating Yang a little better than a crook. At least this car didn't have a steel grate between her and the driver. "Please, get in."

Yang didn't fight it, Blake didn't force it. She just sat down, squirmed against her police cuffs and waited. Blake took the driver's seat, alone, and started them off. They turned onto the first road, took a left, then another left. Not the station.

"Okay, can you now tell me what the hell this is about?" Yang grumbled from the back. The alcoholic high had turned into a migraine, the only comfort to be found was propping her head against the glass like an ice pack.

"You broke the law," Blake offered, but didn't commit to.

"You jaywalk across the street every time you go grocery shopping," Yang countered, "Look, I was just enjoying a night out. It's not like it's that bad!" Inappropriate to do instead of going home, absolutely, but not that bad.

Blake didn't have a response at first. She made another left, slapped her windshield washers to auto, and a fourth left. That swashing sound turned into a metronome. Yang's headache lovingly conformed to its pattern.

"So," Blake started when she finally found her words, "Velvet's enjoying her new job as dorm mother. Apparently it's not uncommon for students to have a break down after the first week," Blake's voice echoed detached, but her fingers one by one gripped the wheel so hard Yang feared they'd turn blue.

"Oh," Yang sighed, realizing how much of a prick she looked like right now. She had avoided home successfully so long, she had forgotten the reason for it was a complete fabrication. "I'm not cheating on you, if that's what you think."

"I know you're not," Blake answered, quickly. Yang appreciated that. "You're just lying and hiding from me." Less so that.

"Yeah, it's shitty, I get it," Yang admitted, "But it's temporary. I just need to get over some things before I can go home. It's temporary." Originally the plan was only to be gone a week. Gods, how quickly a week turns to three when avoiding something. "And I'm serious about the cheating thing. My hotel is as dry as I've been without you," Yang chimed, trying to bring a little humor to an completely unfunny situation.

Blake didn't laugh. She didn't say anything, actually. Not even a grunt. Just silence. Her disappointed sigh and the window washing wush-wush were the only things competing for her attention.

Eventually, like always, Yang broke under silence. "Yeah, I know it doesn't make it okay, but as the queen of running away from your problems I figure you can understand I need my space after you pulled that shit with Dawn!"

"What?!" The car made a hard stop on green, Yang smacked against Blake's seat. She got that pop to the face she wanted, after all. "Yang, I have been searching for you for weeks, you don't come home, and I don't even know why? What the hell do you mean 'shit I pulled with Dawn'?!" Blake was screaming at that point, the car completely stopped in the middle of the road.

"She got herself held back for you, and you know it," Yang mumbled her long held, never spoken theory.

"What?" Blake snapped again, "I was as surprised as you to hear she failed her final exams. Yang, you can't blame me for everything wrong in our fami—"

"You're the smartest woman I've ever met, Blake. If I could figure it out, you can to. You know she'd do anything to get your approval—"

"She has my approval!"

"Shut up and let me finish," Yang ended their string of interruptions, nothing was going to work that way. God, what hell were they in where she needed to be the grown up. "You openly talked in front of her about how worried you were for Summer's safety, that the SDC needed to make sure she had one of 'our' people as her partner in case the 'White Fang' showed up from beyond the grave, whatever. Suddenly she fails, for no reason, and you get your agent on SVLR."

"I didn't mean Dawn. Or anyone like that. If Jaune wasn't so stupid as to let Adam's—"

Yang was not abiding excuses. "You let it happen, and you weren't digging deep enough to see why this happened. Blake, either you wanted this, or you're too fucking focused on politics to pay attention to your daughter fucking up her life, you tunnel visioned idiot!" She cemented her point with full kick to the back of Blake's chair. Harmless, but it made her feel better.

"I'm in politics for her, Yang!" Blake shouted, and she wasn't lying. Thing was, the 'why' eventually vanishes from Blake's whole thinking. It's just complete the goal, catch the bad guy, what's it matter if I, and the people who love me lose sleep? There is only the goal.

"Just let me out. I don't want to go home. If you're not going to arrest me, let me out of this car. Unlike the fluffy kind, I don't enjoy these handcuffs," Yang leaned back, sighed and collapsed against the door. Her eyes closed, she could hear the rain. That beat soothed the migraine.

"Yang, I love Dawn and you." Blake did.

"I know, we love you, too." And they did.

"When are you coming home?" Yang won, she supposed. Especially given the rattling of Blake's scroll.

"I don't know, eventually."

Blake touched a button, and Yang's cuffs came loose. One dangerous app to leave on the CCT network. Yang rubbed the only wrist that could actually feel irritation. As weird as it sounded, she was looking forward to walking back to the hotel. It was a wonderful thing for her cybernetic arm. Made it feel alive.

"Are you thinking about divorcing me?" Blake slammed into Yang's train of thought. She asked the question like one asks a judge 'how many years'. Forlorn defeat.

"No, idiot," Yang scoffed, bringing her arms around the chair in front of her. Blake felt cold, that little walk had dampened her trenchcoat. Yang needed to buy her an umbrella. She worked so hard, never took care of herself the right way. Dummy. "I could kill you right now, but I know you, Blake. I know you get too into things. I know exactly how dumb you can get. We married knowing we're a bunch of fuck ups. I mean, having to decide on whether to have Dawn probably sped that the hell up, but I still knew. Nothing's changed."

"I d—" Blake stopped herself from saying anything more. Yang felt the big bad chief of police squeeze her hand like a kid with a teddy bear. The pop of the car door lock releasing came next.

Slipped from your grasps again, coppers! Yang chuckled at herself. As hot and angry as she felt right now, a lovely walk through the rain could do only good.

Vermilion Lance

Vermilion made her schedule law, always had. She found a certain comfort in knowing exactly what should be done in a day. Sunday, despite it being the third one, already found something of a set manifest. Eight, Summer woke up, performed calisthenics as quietly as she could, but a miniscule groan coming around eight twenty-three always woke the faunus up. She didn't mind. Summer's breath hitching when her sit ups hit around the third digits was better than blaring beeps.

Vermilion would nimbly descend from her bed, they would share a good morning nod, and nothing more. Best to keep Dawn from stirring. The first step on the laminated dark oak already piped up those cat ears. Death stalkers were less vigilant.

The bathroom gave her some freedom. Vermilion could change quickly without the same agonizing caution. For now, she slid off her black bed robe and took on the more practical tank and sport shorts (a gift from Summer). Enjoying the silence, she cut a special moment out to set aside her regular dress for the day. Usually Vermilion would stay in uniform, though she had noticed a laxness in dress code even on school days. However, today was...the wold special made her nauseated. What was special about a chore? There was an extra step today, another notch on her list. Today she would need to be dressed in her black robes. Thicker than they looked, but lighter than one would believe. Arm guards, leg guards, a versatile protection for any fighter, and of course, a huntress' sword. No one gave weapons even a second thought at the academy, not even a glance. Everything but her sword she folded ready in her own predecided partition of the bathroom.

Step two, visit Yari, her mare. She had vastly underestimated how rarely humans from the city used horses. Not the fastest transportation, but quick enough to outrun a beowolf and most important, its fuel came in feed bags, didn't explode, and of course, wasn't finite. Vale opulence could not be understated. Still, Beacon predated dust mass cultivation and its stables were still kept up. Ranging hunters and the handful of students kept personal horses. The place was nothing fancy, and a half quarter mile walk from the dorms, her white spotted black horse clopped forward from its corner of the yard, a fenced off enclosure for the females. Grounds keepers brought them into the barn during rainstorms, otherwise they roamed their forty foot grass fields waiting on students to feed them. After all, Beacon wasn't a charity.

"Yari, I've got something for you," Vermilion shouted in her native faunus language, thankful no one was around to give her a belittling glare, "It's breakfast." Vermilion pulled a bag from her storage, about two pounds now, two more before they hit the road. "I'll be back in a few, we need to take a trip into town." Yari ignored her for the most part, far too hungry to care about her particulars. Like most Sundays, she indulged in brushing the mare, taking ten minutes to enjoy her life long partner, and departed with a wave. Not that Yari cared.

Step three, laps. Summer might be able to lift her, Dawn, and the damn horse all at once, but proper cardio, that was the faunus' dominion now and forever. Before hitting the dining hall, Vermilion challenged herself the same way: get near five miles in half an hour. She never quite made it without aura, but she was getting closer every week. By the time she smashed through the pain and scorching inside her legs, Vermilion had arrived into the good graces of an air conditioned breakfast buffet.

Sunday left the place surprisingly low on students, though easily thirty or so could be seen fixed strategically and socially stationed every so often down the tables. Half the school was sleeping in, the other third in town or with family. It was Vermilion's favorite time. No lines, no questions. She could pick up a simple meal for two to go, no one would even pretend to care. Matching muffins, a box of white rice, three apples (one for Yari), and frosted bun. Summer seemed enamored by them, and hey, whatever gave Vermilion another edge when it came to the twenty meter dash.

"Here's breakfast." At ten, despite Dawn's struggles to stay asleep, the dorm lost its privileges as a quiet zone. No matter how much the cat groaned and shuffled in her bed, it wasn't going to keep everyone shut up forever. "The rice is for both of us, one muffin and one apple for each. The bun is yours." Vermilion could swear Summer shut down mid squat, eyes looking through her and right at the bag. SVLR's leader had quite the unbecoming appetite.

"Anything for me?!" Azura popped up from beneath the sheets of the bottom bunk. The kid's hair was frayed even worse than usual, starting to curl right up to the color line. Someone slept in late.

"No, you're usually out and about on your own by now, so I didn't think to get you anything. I'm sorry, Azura." Summer was already snatching the breakfast bag for herself, finding the bun first and foremost.

"Thank you so much!" The Schnee could eat, and after working out for two hours, nothing on Remnant could stop her. The faunus couldn't blame her really, the churning in her stomach from fresh burned calories made her wish she was just as piggish. She didn't eat though. Something about sitting together, eating, with Summer, she couldn't do it rank from a full five miles away. She sighed, accepted fate, and went to wash.

Vermilion prefered baths. A warm water soak while not efficient, peeled more than dirt off her. Valens almost always used showers, just straight streams designed to smash off the sweat. It worked, but Vermilion never grew to enjoy it as much.

She had her tiny tiled corner, each one covered with hair and body products. Summer had the most by far: a body wash, skin cream, soap spud, conditioner, treatment, and shampoo. All high priced. The girl was charmingly spoiled. Dawn came in second, cheaper products, but just as much for her hair, only one soap and rag though. Azura had the least, three in one body wash, conditioner, and shampoo from a bargain store. Strange to think they were bloodbound family. Vermilion had all her products from home. Handmade soap, a spud, and yellow lathing bar of hard shampoo to keep her hair smooth. Better for her skin than any slapped-together prepackaged products. Ridiculous that she was even focusing on that, Summer's a bad influence.

The hot water boiled away her thoughts and all the outside sounds. She got a brief second free of all the coins still up in the air. Putting things off, it wasn't her way. Today, good or bad, she'd see it through and end it. Today was the first day in seven years she'd see her father and, if the gods were good, the last.

Vermilion turned the water off and sighed in one last steam lined breath. There was noise as she dried herself off, which was not unusual. She counted the combat scars on her body and took a blow drier to her hair, one of the better things about reliable electricity, and brushed it back to normality. She didn't even notice the vast ramping up clamor until the wood of their window cracked against the panel and people began shouting.

Vermilion slammed the bathroom door open, half dressed with her sword and scabbard in hand. "Is everyone okay?" her voice trailed off as the scene she was witnessing froze in place. Azura was bouncing on the bottom mattress, Summer was rushing to catch someone falling out of the window, a woman in red with a basket clearly not meant to c— Wait, this is the third floor.

"Mom, just let me—" Summer yelped, trying to fit the full grown adult through a window. What is this school….

"Don't worry, I got this!" the stranger—Summer's mother?— snapped back, slapping the hand that grabbed at her. "You act like I've never snuck into one of these dorms!" The red, the cloak, the...oddness. Vermilion knew this woman, or of her. The huntress Ruby Rose, the 'Red Queen of Roseland' the faunus had called her, often with a bit of mockery or disdain. The Red Queen didn't know how to use a door.

"Excuse me," Vermilion mumbled, unwilling or unable to process the smuggling of someone worth billions of lien through a porthole. She had clothes to get on, boots to fit, insanity to ignore. Which was hard, after Mrs. Rose smashed into the floor with a painful dull thud.

"Mom!"

Once Vermilion came back out, the dorm room gained a bit of normalcy. Mrs. Rose hugged Azura and was shaking the kid back and forth like any overzealous parent. Summer smiled without the usual nervous stress that tugged at her lips. Dawn was unchanged, still face down in her bed, trying, trying so hard to pretend the room was silent.

"I missed all of you so much! I was losing my mind!" Mrs. Rose was several times strong enough to lift Azura up and hold them with one hand. The other she reached out to Vermilion with a smile so wide she looked like a cartoon. No one ever mentioned the Red Queen was this...lively. "Vermillion Lance, right? I'm Ruby Rose, Summer and Azura's mom. I saw you during the trials, you were awesome!"

"Thank you," Vermilion fumbled, "I'm glad to be working with your daughter." Vermilion took her hand in a practiced shake. This was a master huntress? A girl, woman, with messy long hair, a sunny aura, and easy posture. She looked too young for middle age, either had Summer early in life or just perpetual baby face. Maybe both. Vermilion didn't feel the air of authority from her, but a sudden rush of comfort.

"Summer's right, you are so polite," Ruby noted blanky.

"What? Summer talks about me?" Vermilion thought she stopped herself, but from the red on Summer's cheeks and how mortified she looked, she did not. I really just said that.

"Classified," Ruby countered, "I brought goodies for everyone!" Azura wiggled happily in her arms, acting closer to seven than fifteen. Whatever, Vermilion was happy food could distract from the momentary awkward wall she had just walked them all into.

"I hope it's not hot. We kinda just had breakfast, mom. Sorry," Summer mentioned, food all finished with Vermilion's still waiting for her. She happily took a spot next to her leader on the floor and went for what was left of the rice, still warm from a good steaming.

"It's all good. I would have called, but I wanted to make sure you didn't run away soon as the adult comes strutting in. Plus, I sorta, kinda, promised your mother I wouldn't do stuff like this, but whatever, you'd never tell on me. Right?" Summer restrained a snort. Vermilion had never thought the Schnee's would have any sort of light-hearted shenanigans in their homelife.

"I guess it depends on what you got us," Azura gambled. Ruby rolled her eyes and dropped the young charlatan.

"These are gift's, not bribes!"

"We'll see~" Azura sung, happy to double down on the joke.

"Fine, well then. First for the ungrateful child, I got you some more dust for your mixtures. Don't kill your teammates, 'kay?" Mrs. Rose dug out of her bag a thin cylinder of dust, subdivided by color. The fine powder form was most potent and absolutely necessary for all advanced mixtures. It was also frighteningly expensive.

"Dawn, I got you a bunch of energy bars since I worry you don't get enough food. Here you go, honey." Her niece was still buried in a pillow, but Mrs. Rose wasn't the least bit inhibited. She threw a set of six right at her head, eliciting the most pissy groan Vermilion ever heard.

"For Summer, I brought you all the healthy alternatives to sugary snacks." One by one, Ruby Rose brought out fruit after fruit, sometimes canned sometimes fresh. At least half of her whole hall of goodies was fruit. "Apples, oranges, got some canned peaches, all things you should go to first if you're feeling the urge to binge."

"You didn't need to get so much," Summer mumbled as she found herself outlined in food offerings. "It's a nervous habit, okay? I'm getting better with avoiding sweets." Her grumbling in its own way seemed rather endearing. Vermilion happily scarfed down her meal, watching her squirm.

"Last, but not least, Vermilion!" The faunus missed with her chopsticks, shocked to even make it on the list. She wasn't family, what would Mrs. Rose even get her? "I know we just met, so I don't know you real well, but I hope this is the beginning. I baked you some cookies." She revealed a bag of thin cracker-like chocolate chips. Vermilion took the bag in her hand and felt momentarily overwhelmed. Her cultural norms kicked her in the head, not having a gift to give back felt horribly wrong. The Red Queen, she was just a sweet—

"I made them sugar free. I understand type one diabetes runs in your family." The warm feeling comforting in Vermilion's belly was replaced with a cold vacuum. She dropped the cookies in her lap, the bag landing right next to the rest of her food. She lacked the appetite to eat at all. She knows. She's telling me she knows.

"Are you alright?" Mrs. Rose whispered with the practice of an experienced mother. She moved forward, got close to Vermilion. Close enough the faults started to show: shifts in the cartilage of the nose, divots in her jaw line from a claw, pink and white healed over scratches on her cheek, and the occasional nearly faded scar. Up close, Vermilion could just make it out, barely noticeable it was shocking she could see it, a neatly hidden burn scar on her scalp from a manner of beast the faunus couldn't fathom. Until now she had never noticed, the way her silver eyes were bright like Summer's and reflected back perfectly. The way her hair flowed night black to blood red. How unafraid she was smiling, how in control she was where Vermilion felt herself spiralling out of it. For the first time she really saw Mrs. Rose. The Red Queen was not just a mother, nor just a sweet woman: she was beautiful, she was a huntress, she was a killer.

"I," Vermilion's voice clawed its way back down her throat, "Thank you," Once it finally came out her words were choked and airy. "I need to go." Vermilion abandoned eloquence and bounded out of the room. Summer called out to her, but the faunus didn't slow down. Her pace flat lined between a march and a sprint. She only petered out once she reached the dorm exit. There, her breath was waiting for her.

Between gulps of air, Vermillon heard soft steps. She expected Summer, maybe even Mrs. Rose to make her warning a little more clear. I know you're the blood of the enemy. "You going somewhere, Lance?" Dawn she didn't expect. Seemed the dead were walking again and Vermilion's bunk mate managed to traipse up to her pretty nonchalant after being glued to her bed minutes ago. Not that Vermilion ever understood anything about Dawn.

"I am," Vermilion confirmed, feeling now more than ever her business needed to be sorted. She would need to talk to Summer after, before her mother told her everything. "Why?"

"Just asking," Dawn crept up, grazing her fingers along the stone wall as she did. Aside from her pajamas, you'd never guess she had been 'sleeping' moments ago. "Like to keep tabs."

"On me?" Just me.

"Mhm, wouldn't want a teammate to get lost. I don't believe you've left the academy once so far. Must be something special. Want company?" Vermilion absolutely did not. This was something she needed to do on her own. "The city can be pretty beastly."

"Dawn, you don't like me," Vermilion stated her understanding. Wanting to make her perceptions of things clear. Dawn's eyes widened, shocked, or pretending to be anyways.

"I'm being nice. I was offering to be your tour guide," Dawn noted.

"Exactly why this is weird." Dawn wasn't the cruelest student, in her own way Vermilion respected her. She was diligent, strong-willed, beautiful, and most importantly unbent. The school seemed to hate her, students from the upper grade vilified her. Vermilion had seen faunus and human students whisper about her and call her half-breed. She was strong, but she was never friendly. Not to Vermilion. "What do you want?"

"To know where you going," Dawn remarked with all the flare of an expense report.

"Why?" Vermilion stepped back towards the exit.

"Like you don't know." Dawn stepped forward, right passed any false pretense. "Pretend as you might, I know who you are. I can guess who you work for, and I can guess why you're here on my team."

"To become a better huntress, we're all the same here." Dawn rolled her eyes, her smirk bending into a small crease of anger.

"To get close to the Schnees," Dawn answered for her, "Of all the teams, after so much planning, you still end up here. That's suspicious. So clear my suspicions, where are you going?" And yet, Vermilion specifically wanted the opposite. No one got their dream pick. Anyone else, and Vermilion could have stayed hidden, out of eye. At first, being partnered with Summer made her so anxious she wanted to vomit. Not that Dawn would believe her.

"I've done nothin—"

Dawn's nose flared hot, and eyes flashed from yellow to harsh red. A deeper crimson than Vermillion's own. "Do I look like I care, Taur—"

"Hey guys!" Both of them snapped attention to a girl in a white vest and red hood, black skirt finish really making her pop, not that the pink and white hair needed help. "Things alright, you both look tense?" Shu, their dorm neighbor with the voice both shrill and sweet.

"Yeah, we're fine," they replied, though only Dawn continued, "And you, all dressed up?"

"Heading into town on some errands with my sister. Wanna ride with me?" Shu offered a hand, all gloved in rich black. Dawn took a step back. She sucked in a chest full of air and suddenly the half-faunus was smirking again with eyes like a cat's.

"Thanks," Vermilion replied, arms crossed under her chest. She was taking this out and walking away. SVLR was just starting to feel like a home, too. "I've got my horse. See you in town, Shu." Vermilion spun on her heel and walked out the door. Before it shut behind her, warm and full of pep, she could hear Dawn shouting after her.

"Later, Vermilion!"

"You'll be given ten minutes. Do not touch the inmate, do not pass the blue line, do not attempt to hand the inmate anything, including, and not limited, to those letters. Most importantly, do not interfere with the guards." Vermilion didn't listen, barely registered the rep speaking to her at all. Her senses dug into the hall, the linoleum white floors, cement walls, sparse barred windows. Nothing had color or personality. The whole micro-prison smelt like bleach.

"Door opening!"

Vermilion tightened, her back tabletop straight, her chin ninety degrees from her neckline, knees locked, muscles prepared and ready for combat. The holding cell door, a bulwark of half a foot thick steel, opened. The man inside was slouched forward, shoulders forced down by some unseen weight. He wasn't wearing black like he did in all her memories, instead he was restrained to a brown shirt and pants with no distinguishing markers. The bull faunus' red hair had grayed more than the years should have. His arms and feet both were locked together by titanium cuffs, the hands entirely covered in a metal trap chained to the desk in front of him. She noticed his horns had been shaved down to the skull. It made her wonder whether the human guards or the other prisoners did that to him, until she realized she didn't care.

"Vermilion!" He tried to stand for her, chains all rattling to stop him. One of the guards, a tall man with a lion tattoo on his arm, shoved the prisoner back into his metal stool. Vermilion noted for the first time the entire apparatus was bolted to the floor. A prison meant for Aura users left little room for comfort.

She said nothing back. Vermilion took five measured steps to the guest stool, firmly grasping twenty opened letters. Each handwritten, each marked from an address five blocks from the third support CCT tower, a convenience he likely lamented losing.

"I'm so glad you've come to visit me, your mother wrote me that you'd left the village." Vermilion kept her sunglasses on, not that it was bright. She prefered he never see her eyes again. "I see you got my letters."

"Don't misunderstand. The only reason they're open is the guards checked for weapons. I never read them. I don't intend to." Catching her words before she launched into a monologue was...difficult. Vermilion kept biting her lip whenever she wanted to say more. The more you talk, the more ammo you give him. "Adam, you will stop sending me letters. Goodbye."

"Wait!" Adam shouted as soon as she got up from her seat. She did not sit back down. "Vermilion, please, I watched you during the trials. You've grown so—"

"How?" Vermilion snapped.

"I sent in a request, after what your mother wrote me. Beacon's headmaster let me watch the parent's stream. He's a very sof—"

"So that's how they know," the younger faunus grumbled, reliving the frightened feeling that crawled down her back that morning. The goal of being a transfer not blighted by a family stain was ruined by this idiot's disregard for her. " I'm surprised they didn't kick me out of the school, all because you couldn't stay out of my life!"

"Mr. Arc's under the impression that the sins of the father don't pass onto the son," Adam tried to defend, quoting an old saying in a way that hinted at mockery. Adam never gave up the dream that she would pick up the mantel and further his perversion of the White Fang's mission.

"He's a good man," Vermilion mumbled, noticing he had gotten his wish. She stopped leaving, they were talking casually about school, acting like this was normal, "A little strange for my taste though." Don't let him trap you like this. He's faking. Don't fall for this!

"Doesn't stop them from mocking you. Making a Schnee your commander, you deserve better than that." Just as expected. Adam could not hide his ugliness.

"Sins of the mother." Or grandfather. The Schnee family had done irreversible harm to faunus. Just two generations ago they were practically slavers. Some even considered Weiss Schnee's Roseland a different kind of enslavement. She'll feed you, she'll clothe you, she'll give you land to farm, but you are hers. At least that's what the Taurus villagers warned of. "Summer's a very kind person and so far a competent leader. I could have done worse for a partner."

"She'll try and turn you into a lap dog, just like Weiss Schnee did to Chief Inquisitor Belladonna." Blake Belladonna, Dawn's mother and chief of police. Another woman of mixed reputation among the wild faunus.

In the end, the conversation was pointless. Vermilion sighed out the thin dusty hope she didn't even know she had anymore. She ripped apart the letters, right in front of his sunken eyes. "Goodbye." She wasn't going to wait like a frightened child to see what happened next. He had ten life sentences. Adam was powerless.

"You'll regret walking away from your father!" the bull cried from his seat. He struggled against the chains, but they just creaked as he sputtered and frothed. The tattooed guard grabbed Adam by his skull and smashed him against the table like a misbehaving dog forced to smell its own mistake.

"The only thing I regret is Vale doesn't have the death penalty," Vermilion said, for no other word better explained the forlorn monotone reply. The guards all laughed, the best soap opera live right there.

As the rep from before started unlocking the massive steel door, Adam began whispering something. The tattooed guard, thirsty for drama and a good comeback, leaned in close. Far too close. Vermilion tried to shout for him to back up, not that there was time to stop it. Adam swiped the metal chain restraints around the tattooed guard's neck, both falling part way to the ground. With all his weight on the chain, Adam was killing the man, struggling as the binds began crushing his throat.

Vermilion broke the rule. She darted past the blue line of paint dividing the room in half. She snatched the steel-link noose and unwrapped it, dropping the guard to the ground. He wheezed for air while Adam struggled to get up ontop of him, if only to bite the poor bastard to death. Vermilion still had the chain however. Adam could absorb energy, but not her kind of charge. She didn't hold back. Sparks flew down the metal of the chain, into the table, and down through Adam into one prickish circuit. He was absolutely helpless.

By the time they pulled Vermilion off the chain, her father had electrical burns all around his wrists and ankles. The staff agreed, since she saved one of them, that she was never there. A guard's taser did it and Vermilion would keep out of police custody. Also, as a favor, they would toss out the letters. Probably burn them in front of Adam as their own revenge for his outburst.

Half a Sunday had been wasted on him, but she hoped it would be the last. As soon as she could step outside, Vermilion swallowed a chest full of salt air, feeling freer than she had in years, and soaked in the later afternoon sun. Her horse was waiting for her, some local children were all crowding around the mare. Vermilion didn't mind. She took the reins and let the kids pet Yari. Gave her some time to think.

The White Fang was still healing from all the venom Adam pumped into it, but with him behind bars, it would find its way back, she was sure of it. Like a cancer, cut it out and the body could live again. So could she. Vermilion was sure the letters would stop, Adam had to get the message every time he looked at his wrist. The day was bright. The clouds separated over the nearest CCT tower stabbing into the sky, a hopeful trail into the heavens.

Vermilions ears popped. Everyone recoiled to the ground as the tower windows shattered. The flaming residue burned the floors five through seven into the warped shape of claws and a familiar wolf, ever so ugly.

**** WELL THAT TOOK FOREVER. I have no idea why, but this took so long to make. Like I rewrote so much and jumped around and omg hardest chapter yet. Part of the reason it took so long. This should be out sometime friday/saturday, if not sorry!

Anyways thanks so much for reading, please submit a review, let me know what you think! I could use positive reinforcement or constructive criticism. Thanks so much for reading, and thanks so much to Lazykatze for editing this, she is the greatest!