Yang has learned that Jaune Arc's mother, Doctor Isabel Arc, is one of the strongest hand to hand fighters in Vale's history. So she decides to test herself against her. How hard could it be?
Yang-centric, Action/Drama, Original Character, One-Shot. For Dragonslayer Week 2025.
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Yang Xiao-Long had looked up Isabel Arc, and the woman's record was nothing short of staggering. A former Huntress who had overthrown a corrupt government and battled a Grimm Hydra, Isabel was a legend in her own right. Yang, ever the martial artist, burned with curiosity to test the strength of Jaune's mother for herself. When she learned Isabel was visiting Beacon to volunteer, Yang seized her chance. She found Isabel meditating in a field of ruins just outside the academy, dressed in her usual green dress, white labcoat, and glasses, exuding a serene calm. Despite having eight children, Isabel's presence was striking—her martial prowess evident in her controlled movements, and Yang couldn't help but note, with a touch of awe, that she was still undeniably attractive.
Without opening her eyes, Isabel spoke, her voice steady. "Hello, Yang. What can I do for you?"
Yang, caught off guard but not entirely surprised—her stealth wasn't exactly top-notch—grinned and shrugged. "Heyah, Doc Arc!" she said, her carefree smile masking the thrill and slight unease of being so easily detected. "What's up?"
"Not much," Isabel said with a soft, curious smile, "Something on your mind?"
Slamming her fist into her palm, Yang's eyes gleamed with determination. "From what I heard, you're the one to beat. Figured while you're here, I could see why."
Isabel stood, stretching and rolling her shoulders, her tone measured. "It's been a very long time since I was a Huntress, Yang. Glynda Goodwitch outclasses me-"
"Yeah, but not in hand to hand. Everyone says you're still incredible," Yang insisted. "I also heard that my mom… Fears you."
Isabel raised an eyebrow.
"Does she?"
"Do you not know?" Yang asked. Maybe Qrow had been exaggerating… In which case, she needed to know. If Yang wanted answers from Raven, she'd likely have to fight for them, and what better way to gauge her own strength than by challenging the one person who made Raven back down?
"It was a long time since we last fought," Isabel mused. She shook her head. "Still… Is that a good enough reason to fight me?"
"Yes!" Yang nodded.
"You really want to see where you stand?" Isabel asked, her gaze piercing. Yang nodded eagerly.
"More than anything," Yang whispered, her voice carrying the weight of a shout in the quiet ruins.
Isabel studied her carefully, before she nodded.
"All right," she agreed, slipping on worn black-and-white fighting gloves and assuming a loose, graceful Taekwondo stance.
"I take it Taiyang taught you South Mistralian Kickboxing? That was his style," she said, cracking her neck.
Yang nodded, admitting she'd never quite mastered the kicking but excelled in other aspects. She settled into her own stance, mentally and physically bracing herself. Isabel, still perfectly calm, invited Yang to make the first move, her demeanor suggesting Yang posed no threat—an attitude that sparked a flicker of irritation in the younger fighter.
A wind swept through the ruins as Yang launched her attack, throwing an aura-infused haymaker followed by rapid jabs aimed at Isabel's midsection. She aimed to overwhelm with sheer force, testing the waters, fully expecting Isabel to dodge or block. To her shock, Isabel didn't move an inch, effortlessly slapping away each punch with one hand, as if shooing a bee.
"Well… It's a very polished style," Isabel remarked, her voice almost casual. "Extremely direct."
Without warning, Yang charged, closing the distance in a heartbeat, her fist snapping out in a quick jab at Isabel's head. Isabel's frown was subtle as she parried the punch with a fluid motion, her foot sweeping out to trip Yang, sending her stumbling past. Yang's aura flared, her hair sparking, but she spun back, undeterred, unleashing a flurry of punches, each one fueled by her Semblance's growing heat.
Isabel's face remained a mask of indifference, her movements precise as she parried every strike without shifting from her spot, her hand deflecting Yang's gauntlet-powered blows with an ease that bordered on insulting. The stalemate grated on Yang's nerves, her patience fraying as she mixed in reckless kicks and wild punches, her aura blazing brighter, hoping to land even a single hit. Isabel's frown deepened, and with a swift motion, she caught one of Yang's punches in her palm, her grip like iron. Yang growled and dashed back. Isabel raised an eyebrow.
"Are you upset I'm not putting in more effort?" She smiled wryly. "I suppose that is unfair of me."
"Honestly, a little, yeah…" Yang said, her voice sharp but teasing, "but then again, I wasn't really expecting you to take me seriously to begin with. So this is all just par for the course."
With a burst of speed, she darted to what she thought was Isabel's blind spot, her fist rocketing toward her side.
Isabel shifted, her movement a blur, catching Yang's punch in her palm. With a fluid twist, she executed a judo throw, sending Yang hurtling toward a nearby column. The impact shook the ground, Yang's breath exploding from her lungs as she crashed upside-down, her hair tangled with dirt.
Damn, Yang thought, gasping, she has to be faster than Ruby, at least! At short range!
"I do hope that wasn't your best," Isabel said gently, but with a hint of challenge in her eyes. Yes, despite her age and maturity... There was a spark in the doctor's eyes. The thrill of the fight. Yang grinned.
She scrambled up, bloodied but unbowed, her eyes locked on Isabel, who hadn't moved far, her hands now both engaged—a small victory. Yang resumed her fighting stance, her aura flaring, her voice rough.
"You want me at my best, fine then!" She slammed her foot down, her Semblance igniting fully, flames licking around her, her body ablaze with righteous fury, burning with the intensity of a small sun.
Isabel's smile was encouraging, genuine. "Good!"
Before Yang could blink, Isabel dashed forward, unleashing a barrage of jabs, punches, and kicks—each strike a hammer blow, faster and stronger than anything Yang had faced. Yang blocked what she could, each impact like stopping a truck, her aura straining. She retaliated, using the momentum to fuel her Semblance, searching for an opening. She didn't need to match Isabel's quantity—just one quality hit, one punch to make her feel it, to prove Yang was on the right path.
Isabel switched tactics, her attacks now like an avalanche of boulders—punches, kicks, knees, elbows, relentless and precise. Yang endured, her blocks faltering against the onslaught, her aura dwindling.
She pushed past the pain, the frustration, the torrent of emotions her Semblance amplified, waiting for her moment.
There! An opening!
Yang's fist surged through Isabel's guard, connecting with her jaw, snapping her head back.
But in that split second, Yang's vision filled with Isabel's fist, perfectly placed where her head was aimed. Yang's own momentum carried her into it, and blackness swallowed her.
Yang came to, birds singing faintly, the scent of Healing Dust sharp in the air. She lay at the bottom of a crater, her body aching, her hair a mess of dirt and singed strands. Isabel knelt beside her, channeling Aura through glowing Healing Dust, her blue eyes filled with worry and guilt.
"Yang? Yang, are you all right?"
Yang tried to speak, but pain seared her chest, reducing her to a pained moan. Isabel winced, channeling more Aura, the pain easing to a dull ache, then fading as Yang's Aura rallied.
"Better? Any pain anywhere?" Isabel asked, her voice soft but anxious.
Yang wanted to be mad—her hair was ruined—but she couldn't muster it. She'd forced Isabel to use her full strength, even if it was by instinct. A weak chuckle escaped her, followed by a cough.
"…Y-you really are the one to beat… hehe… Jaune wasn't kidding, and neither was anybody else."
Isabel's expression softened, but her voice was firm.
"I'm not a measuring stick, Yang." Her mask was unreadable, but her eyes held a quiet challenge. "Why do you want to think of me that way?"
Yang closed her eyes, an unapologetic smile tugging at her lips. "Because you're 'not a measuring stick'…" Her tone turned serious, her voice steady despite the ache. "…you're the top in hand to hand combat for Huntresses, and I wanna reach it someday. So if I'm ever going to, I need to see where I'm at now, and understand whether the path I'm on will lead me there."
Isabel's gaze softened, a faint smile breaking through. "…You know, my path led me to the top. And then… I retired. I raised a family. I became a doctor, to heal rather than harm." She shook her head, her voice heavy. "A civilization that has to rely on children to defend it from monsters…"
Yang's eyes opened, her curiosity piqued.
"It... Shouldn't be that way," Isabel sighed. "But it is what it is."
Yang scowled.
"My dad said the same thing about my mom," she growled. She punched her palm with her other fist. "I hate that saying. Like... There's nothing that can be done. Nothing you can do to change things!"
Isabel shook her head, her tone becoming gentler. "There are some things you can't change, Yang. No matter how strong you are. The truth is, Yang… I knew Raven. I knew her… and you're better off without her in your life. Behind all her anger and bluster and strength… was a little girl too scared to make a different decision than what her parents wanted her to."
Yang's breath caught, her heart twisting at the mention of her mother. She scowled up at her.
"I want to hear it from her."
Isabel's next words cut deeper. "You won't get a better answer than that."
"Maybe I'll find out for myself," Yang huffed. Isabel nodded.
"If that's what you want, all right. But that's not much of a goal for getting stronger. Or just to be the best-They'll both just lead to disappointment. So what do you want to get strong for?"
Yang lay silent, her lilac eyes searching the sky, the weight of Isabel's question settling in. She thought of her friends, her family...
"To protect them," she said finally, her voice firm. "To be strong enough so they don't have to be. And... Maybe to see the world. Be free."
Isabel nodded, her smile warm but tinged with sorrow.
"Good answer." She stood, offering a hand. "Come on. Let's get you cleaned up. Jaune will have my head if I break his girlfriend."
"I-I'm not his girlfriend!" Yang insisted, her cheeks bright red. Isabel raised an eyebrow, and Yang flushed. She then shrugged. "I mean… I wouldn't be opposed to it though. If he grew up a little."
"Neither am I," Isabel said warmly, which made Yang feel warmer and lighter.
Yang took her hand, her grin returning, though her body ached. "Deal… but I'm coming for you again, Isabel."
Isabel's laugh was soft, her eyes glinting. "I'd expect nothing less."
