As the sun descended, casting a warm golden glow upon the forested border of one of Inazuma's numerous islands, the vigilant tri-commission guards advanced through the dense undergrowth. Each step they took caused the purple grass beneath their feet to emit a satisfying crunch. With polearms firmly gripped, they remained on high alert, prepared to apprehend their elusive target. Their breaths were hushed as they traversed the labyrinthine trees, their keen eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of movement.
The lead guard, taking a daring leap from a small ledge, gracefully landed in a meandering river stream. Negotiating the treacherous path formed by scattered rocks, the symphony of crickets and the gentle glow of fireflies enveloped his senses.
Suddenly, a distinctive sound echoed through the air—crack! A twig had been snapped under someone's weight. Instantly, the guard swiveled his head towards the origin of the noise, raising his polearm higher in a defensive stance. He waded cautiously through the shallow waters, his gaze darting behind the nearby tree. But there was no one to be found. A flicker of light caught his peripheral vision, compelling him to turn his head. His eyes widened in realization as he identified the source—a fireball hurtling towards him. Reacting swiftly, he leaped out of harm's way but lost his footing, plunging into the water with a resounding splash. The fireball landed a few meters away, seemingly expanding in size and intensity. Struggling to regain his balance, the guard desperately tried to extricate himself from the water, but his efforts were in vain.
In a catastrophic spectacle, the fireball transformed into a formidable explosion, hurtling the guard backward, crashing into a sturdy tree. A pained grunt escaped his lips as he slid down to the ground, closing his eyes tightly. A dull thud reverberated nearby, compelling him to open his eyes once more. And there, standing before him, was the very person he had been pursuing. His voice strained with anger, he bellowed, "You...!" Determined to retaliate, he lunged with the spear end of his polearm, only to have it deftly knocked aside by the intruder, her hand ablaze with fiery energy. "Ah, ah~ I wouldn't do that."
In front of him stood Sayōshi, Yōna—the Resistance's fleetest soldier and the notorious Retriever.
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The wind tousled her vibrant pink hair as she leaned down, effortlessly snatching the guard's polearm and discarding it despite his feeble protests. Frustration coursed through him, and he attempted to rise and seize her, only to find himself firmly pinned against the tree, her hand pressing against his shoulders with unwavering strength. He gritted his teeth, glaring up at her with defiant eyes.
Her cyan gaze seemed to emit an otherworldly radiance as the flames surrounding her subsided, revealing a cool determination in her vision. A glow emanated from her hip, drawing his attention. "I wouldn't advise such actions if I were you," she warned with a smile slowly curling upon her lips. It was a dangerous smile, one that conveyed an unmistakable message: I will not hesitate to harm you if provoked. He was no fool; he had heard stories of her audacity—taunting General Kujou, repeatedly eluding the tri-commission, and relentlessly ambushing soldiers day after day. With a resigned grunt, he relaxed his body, silently conceding defeat.
Observing his surrender, Yōna released her grip and stood upright once more. "Excellent! Now, toodles~!" she teased, stepping away from the fallen soldier. Swiftly pivoting on her heels, the young warrior sprinted towards the edge of the cliff, disappearing over the precipice in a daring leap, her hair dancing in the wind.
