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Yang was tired.
They'd had to fight through the Grimm-infested city of Mountain Glenn. They'd had to fight their way into the tunnels underneath the city. And now here they were on a runaway train fighting to keep it from crashing into the heart of Vale.
Don't get it wrong though, Yang was absolutely a fighter, but even she needed a break sometimes.
This pastel girl in front of her was not keen on giving her one.
Another swing, another miss. Fists met empty air and shotgun blasts impacted the walls of the train car as this girl danced and dodged around every blow. Yang couldn't even use her semblance, as the girl had barely even landed a solid hit on her. The bitch was just letting her wear herself out.
Yang was frustrated.
She let out a roar and launched another flurry of blows that were either dodged or deflected by the girl's infernal umbrella. Yang's eyes flashed red but there was no power behind them, fury with no fire. She was running low on ammo, and her stamina wasn't far behind. She needed to deal with this girl so she could get back to the rest of her team.
The handle of the parasol came around and slammed into her face.
Yang went down like a sack of potatoes. Her aura wasn't down, but it might as well have been. The shock of the blow had literally knocked her off her feet and she'd gone tumbling across the floor. She felt the girl hook her leg with the handle of her weapon and suddenly she was airborne.
The umbrella twirled again, this time slamming into her stomach and sending her flying up into the ceiling of the train. She collapsed into a heap on the floor as she landed.
Pastel bitch sauntered towards her, a thin blade extending from the end of the parasol.
Yang was alone.
And then suddenly she wasn't.
A horrid tearing noise ripped through the train car, and a harsh red light cast everything in an eerie sheen. Heavy boots stepped into the car from somewhere else, and a gruff voice echoed off of the metal walls.
"You stay the fuck away from my daughter."
That wasn't her dad's voice. There were only two other people in the world who would call her that, and one of them was dead. Yang forced herself to roll over, and she caught a glimpse of the woman.
A terrifying form of red and black, with a horrible bone-white mask covering her face, stood between her and her assailant. The woman had a hand on the hilt of a sword and was crouched over her in a defensive position. A low growl began to fill the car, and Yang realised it was coming from the woman.
Yang was confused.
The pastel girl cocked her head, eyeing the woman who now stood over her prey. A smirk crossed her face and the blade of the parasol swung down. Yang's eyes widened in fear.
A blood red sword flashed out and suddenly the parasol was laying in tatters across the floor of the train car. The mute girl's eyes widened before she suddenly shattered into a million pieces of glass. The sword returned to its sheath with a quiet sound and the woman finally turned to face her.
The mask on her face was styled in the visage of a screaming nevermore, and bright red eyes shone through the holes. There was a tense moment as they stared at each other. Yang's heart clenched. She knew who this woman was, deep down. But she didn't want to admit that to herself, didn't want to acknowledge that she was here , that she had protected her.
A hand rose to the mask, but stopped. Yang noticed that the woman's hands were shaking, and the eyes she could see through the mask were shining with tears. She forced herself to swallow past her fear and acknowledge what she knew was true. Her voice still came out quiet and hoarse.
"...Mom?"
A sob ripped through the woman, and Yang watched her shudder for a moment before suddenly there were arms around her. The smell of wet earth after rain assaulted her senses (Petrichor, some forgotten memory told her), and she found herself curling her arms around the woman's -her mother's- back. She could feel the silent sobs being held back, rattling against her chest as strong arms held her close.
"Hi, Yang..." the woman finally managed, pulling back from her daughter. A sniffle came through the mask still firmly on her face. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that.”
Yang wasn’t sure when she’d started shaking, but she could feel tears running down her face now. She’d imagined this moment for years, mind running through millions of scenarios of what might happen. Of all of them, she’d never expected something like this. She’d thought she’d be angry, furious even, but there was none of that. Her chest was empty, save for the tiniest spark of hope floundering in a sea of sorrow.
“Mom- is it- I don’t-” she choked as her own sobs wracked her chest. She couldn’t get the words out; she didn’t even know which words to use.
“Shh it’s- it’s ok. Yeah, it’s- it’s really me.” Another sob wracked her body, “Gods I’m so sorry, Yang…”
Shaking hands lifted up to the mask, and Yang watched her mother hesitate. The hands clenched into fists and she heard the woman quietly curse. Her fists uncurled and she grasped the mask, finally pulling it off of her head. There was a sound like a gasp of pain as she did so, and Yang’s brow furrowed in confusion before she caught the face of her mother.
Yang beheld Raven Branwen’s face for the first time that she could remember. Tired lines ran under her eyes, and the thick black mane of hair cascaded over her shoulders in nearly the same way that Yang’s golden locks did. Her bright red eyes were the same shade as hers when she activated her semblance. There was no doubt this was her mother.
Raven winced, and Yang watched in shock and confusion as black lines began to crawl across her mother’s eyes. The tears running down her cheeks turned black, and in a few moments her sclera had been turned completely black. The red of her eyes glowed, almost like a… Yang’s eyes widened in terror.
“Mom…?” She asked, her voice wavering.
The woman shut her eyes and let out a grunt of pain before shoving the mask back on her face. There was a sigh of relief, and Yang watched the black corruption recede through the eye-holes of the mask.
“Sorry, I- I can’t keep it off for long.” she took a deep breath and stood up, holding a hand out to her daughter. The crying woman from a moment ago was gone now, replaced by a seasoned warrior. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”
“Oh fuck, right! We need to stop the train!” Yang exclaimed as she took the offered hand, pulling herself back to her feet. She shook herself off and turned to her mother, her face suddenly filling with worry. Her next question lacked all of her usual confidence, and a hint of fear leaked into her voice. “Are you… staying?”
“Yang…” Raven’s voice was pained, but she placed a firm hand on Yang’s shoulder and forced their eyes to meet.
Her other hand came up, and clasped between her fingers was a pitch black feather. It was a feather that Yang recognized; How could she not? She’d seen these feathers all her life, so often she’d thought something was following her. There was even one tied into the purple bandana at her waist. She glanced between the feather and her mother’s mask.
“Where… where did you get this…?” She asked, hesitantly reaching for the feather. Raven let her take it without any resistance.
“Just because I left,” She said, “Doesn’t mean I wasn’t there.”
The dots began to connect in her head as she ran her fingers over the feather. It was the same color, same shape, same texture as all the ones she’d found before. Something had been following her, all her life. Her eyes started to tear up as her mind finally put the pieces together.
Yang was loved.
Her mother had been there, watching over her all this time. Why she hadn’t ever revealed herself until now, Yang didn’t know, but she was here now and she wasn’t going to squander that. She threw her arms around Raven once more, squeezing another quick hug out like the touch-starved child she was. Then she pulled back and wiped her face, looking up into bright red eyes with a newfound look of determination.
“You ready?” Raven asked.
Yang nodded.
“Alright, let’s go get your sister.” her mother’s sword came up out of its sheath and sliced the air, an ominous red portal popping into existence. “It’s about time I met my other daughter.”
Yang’s jaw dropped.