It had been only a few days since the dust settled from the grueling initiation—and since Team CDXS was officially formed. Life at Beacon was just beginning, filled with lectures, training sessions, and mandatory team-building exercises. While most students were still adjusting, some... had already made themselves very comfortable.
That night was like any other.
Cala, the walking fortress herself, slept rigidly on her pair of fused beds—the only way she could lie down without her legs hanging off. One of those beds was technically Doppel's. Technically.
Kumiko, ever the traditionalist, opted for the floor, resting on a simple roll-out mat. Her spear rested nearby, as always within arm's reach, just like home.
Sese, of course, had transformed her space into a miniature royal spa. A satin eye mask, glimmering hair rollers, and a lineup of expensive ointments and balms decorated her nightstand. She exhaled with the grace of a sleeping debutante.
But the fourth member of Team CDXS wasn't in her bed.
She never was.
Above them, hidden behind a narrow vent grate, curled in a perfect cat loaf, slept Doppel. Her little corner of the ventilation system—her true "room"—was decked out with a soft pillow, a handful of "borrowed" trinkets from unsuspecting students, and a half-eaten stash of fish snacks. It smelled like tuna and trouble.
Then came the sound.
"Nya."
Doppel's eyes snapped open. Her tail twitched with curiosity. The room was still, bathed in moonlight through the window. Everyone else was sound asleep.
But for Doppel, it was prime time.
She stretched, arching like a proper feline, yawned wide, and crawled toward the vent shaft leading to the hallway ducts.
The night called to her.
And Doppel always answered.
Crawling through the narrow metal shafts like she'd done it her whole life—which, to be fair, she pretty much had—Doppel slinked her way through the connected vent system. Her golden eyes glowed faintly in the darkness, tail flicking lazily behind her as she stopped now and then to peek down into the various dorm rooms.
One vent in particular caught her attention—labeled "RWBY." With a mischievous grin creeping across her face, she tapped her claw-tipped fingers on the metal grate softly like a drumroll.
Then, with a little twist of her wrist and a barely audible click, she popped the vent open using her sharp nails as makeshift lock picks. She dropped down like a shadow onto the floor, landing on all fours without a sound.
"Hello nya~" she whispered, almost lovingly, into the room.
The dorm was dark, save for the soft hum of a moonlit scroll charging and a decorative night light shaped like a Schnee Dust Company logo (how modest). She prowled across the room like a cat in a museum, carefully inspecting each area with exaggerated scrutiny.
First, she eyed Ruby's workstation: tools, scraps, a half-finished schematic of Crescent Rose.
"Hmm... functionally messy... six out of ten nya," she muttered, poking at a wrench with a single claw.
Next was Weiss's corner: neat, pristine, and perfectly arranged—makeup, books, polished boots, a hairbrush that had never seen a tangle.
"Orderly, cold, smells like fancy perfume, just like someone I know. Seven out of ten... wait." Doppel paused, then picked up a toothbrush. "...Six. Definitely a six."
Blake's shelf was a maze of old tomes and novels, all spines perfectly aligned—except for one particular book that caught Doppel's eye.
"Ninjas of Love?" she blinked. "What's this nya? Romance?"
She dropped to her belly on the bed and flipped it open, tail swaying like a metronome. Near the middle, a page was creased—marked.
"Oh~?" she purred, unfolding the page with a smirk as she read a steamy, poorly veiled scene involving a very obscure and detailed girth under the moonlight. "Purr~ now that's impressive."
Snickering to herself, she raised her scroll—cat-themed case and all—and snap! took a picture of the page with a gleeful sparkle in her eyes. Then she gently closed the book, patted it twice, and put it right back where she found it.
By the time she reached Yang's side, she found only a set of dumbbells, an empty snack wrapper, and a pair of sunglasses resting on a neatly folded jacket.
She tried them on, looked in the mirror, and nodded. "Style points. Eight."
With that, she climbed back into the vent like a specter, silent and smug, leaving no trace but the faint scent of tuna and mischief.
The vent shaft echoed faintly as Doppel crawled forward, humming an off-key tune under her breath. She took a sharp turn, sniffed once, then another, and stopped above a vent marked "JNPR."
"Oh ho~ jackpot nya," she grinned, eyes glinting with curiosity.
Another twist, another soft click, and the grate swung open. She slid down with all the grace of a well-practiced intruder, landing silently in the center of Team JNPR's dorm.
She stood up straight, hands on hips, eyes scanning the room.
First target: Jaune Arc.
Curled up in bed, fast asleep, snoring gently. Dressed in a soft blue onesie complete with tiny cartoonish pumpkin patterns. His blanket had been kicked off halfway through the night, one sock was missing, and he clutched a pillow like it owed him money.
Doppel's smile widened to dangerous levels. She tiptoed forward, crouched at the side of his bed, pulled out her scroll, and—snap!
One photo. Then another. Then one with flash, just because.
"Mmmm... embarrassing. Eight point five out of ten."
She slipped away before he could even stir and turned to the rest of the room. Pyrrha's side was tidy, medals on display and spear perfectly mounted. She considered taking a picture of that too but paused. "Too noble. Too shiny. Feels like touching a shrine... pass."
Ren's desk, though? Now that smelled interesting.
On a plate sat a neatly stacked set of pancakes, still warm. A napkin with a perfect fold rested beside it, with a note that read:
"For Nora. Don't touch."
Doppel read it. Blinked. And then grinned.
"Instructions unclear, nya~"
She picked up the pancake like it was the last cookie on Remnant, took a dramatic bite, and purred with delight. "Hnnnn... cinnamon! Ren, you beautiful mystery, ten outta ten!"
She devoured the rest in seconds, wiped her fingers on the napkin with absolutely no remorse, and then popped open Nora's locker out of sheer curiosity—only to be met with a mess of candy wrappers and an active grenade launcher with pink hearts painted on the side.
"...chaotic energy. Nine."
Content with her midnight haul, she sauntered back toward the vent, gave Jaune one last thumbs-up (despite him being asleep), and disappeared upward like a ninja with a belly full of stolen breakfast.
Back in the vents, Doppel prowled like a queen returning to her castle. The metal creaked softly beneath her as she crawled through the narrow corridors with complete confidence, tail swaying like a metronome. This was her world now—her secret kingdom above the heads of unsuspecting students.
She passed by more dorm rooms, casually cracking open vents to snatch small, shiny things. A fancy comb from Team CFVY. A plushie from a random Team corner. Even a half-eaten donut someone forgot to throw out. Each successful grab came with a gleeful whisper:
"Nyahahaha~"
She tucked her finds into a little pouch strapped around her waist, already stuffed with random goodies like pens, badges, an unopened soda, and at least three more fish snacks. She was on a roll.
But then—she paused.
Below, in the corridor, someone was walking alone.
Blonde hair tied tightly. Heels clicking with precise rhythm. A towering stack of test papers floating beside her, balanced perfectly by her Semblance.
Miss Glynda Goodwitch.
Doppel's eyes narrowed. Her grin returned.
She silently followed the professor from the ceiling like a shadow, crawling with practiced silence, keeping just above her path.
She watched as Glynda arrived at her office, pressed her palm to a glowing scanner, and the door opened with a soft bzzt. Inside she went, and the door sealed shut behind her.
Doppel did not follow.
Not yet.
Instead, she waited.
Fifteen minutes passed.
Not a second more.
With practiced grace, Doppel crawled out of the nearby vent, dusted herself off, and stretched her limbs. Then—her body shimmered like water. A flash of pale light rippled across her skin.
Within seconds, standing in the hallway was an identical copy of Professor Glynda Goodwitch—glasses, heels, hair bun and all.
Doppel cleared her throat, adjusted her glasses with the same no-nonsense look, and placed her stolen Glynda-hand against the scanner.
Green light.
Bzzzt.
Door open.
She walked inside, shutting the door behind her with that same strict click Glynda always used—pure mimicry.
Inside was a haven of order: polished shelves, lined books, a massive scroll interface on the desk... and the stack of fresh, untouched test papers.
Doppel—still disguised—walked up with a sway in her step, grabbed a pen, and flicked through a few of the top pages.
"Ughh... multiple choice? Boring," she muttered in Glynda's voice, then scribbled random notes onto a few answers. She flipped through others and wrote things like "Too many commas." or "Needs more explosions." in red ink.
Then, atop the stack, she drew a tiny cat face. With glasses.
"Nyahahahaha~!"
She backed away from the desk, spun around once for flair, and slipped back into the vent above, body shimmering as she dropped the disguise.
Just in time.
The lights flickered on with a sharp, electric hum as the real Glynda Goodwitch stepped briskly into her office. The door sealed behind her with a quiet finality. Her heels clicked sharply against the polished floor as she crossed the room, setting her scroll aside with a practiced motion.
She halted mid-step.
Her eyes narrowed.
Something was off.
The stack of test papers she had so meticulously organized was no longer in the pristine alignment she left it in. A page near the top was slightly skewed, as though it had been thumbed through in haste. She approached slowly, like one might approach a ticking bomb.
The first sheet met her gaze. A standard written exam. But just beside a student's answer was a small, red, hand-drawn cat face—smiling up at her mockingly.
Glynda stared at it in silence. Her lips tightened.
She flipped to the next paper.
In bold red ink: "Too many words. Minus 2 points. Nyaa."
Another: "Explosions would have made this better."
And another: "Perfect use of fluff. 10/10."
Then, the final insult—a student's answer to a math question was completely crossed out and replaced with a childish scrawl:
"Nyaa = 100"
The pen in her hand cracked with a quiet snap.
Her fingers twitched.
Her temple pulsed.
A single, deliberate breath hissed out of her nose. Then came the eye twitch—barely perceptible at first, but growing more defined as her entire posture stiffened like glass under pressure. Her jaw clenched, and her hand hovered just above the desk, frozen between calm professionalism and the kind of quiet rage that only a vandalized test paper could provoke.
She didn't scream.
She didn't curse.
But her voice came out in a frigid, razor-thin whisper as she leaned forward, narrowed eyes blazing with fury:
"That... damn... cat."
Up above, in the narrow ducts of the ceiling vents, Doppel was curled into a near-silent fit of laughter, her shoulders shaking as she clutched her belly with one hand and her mouth with the other to avoid making a sound. Tears were brimming at the corners of her golden eyes, her tail thumping lightly against the vent wall as she tried—and utterly failed—to contain herself.
Every soft giggle that escaped her was like music to her own ears.
She rolled onto her side, wiggling into the vent like a snake into its nest, her pouch of stolen trinkets jingling softly as she continued crawling deeper into the ventilation maze she ruled.
Tonight had been a triumph.
The chaos... far from over.
Through the winding maze of vents, Doppel crawled onward, still basking in the joy of her latest conquest. The cold metal beneath her palms was familiar—comforting, even—and the distant hum of Beacon's systems pulsed like a heartbeat through the steel bones of the school. This was her domain. A kingdom of shadows, echoing giggles, and the occasional snack pilfered from who-knew-where.
She slid around a bend, paused, and peered through a narrow slat in the vent cover below.
Bright green light poured upward from a cluttered office, its walls buried under mountains of scrolls, ancient tomes, and display cases filled with fossilized artifacts, half-broken weapons, and curious shards of forgotten relics.
Professor Oobleck stood amidst it all, a whirlwind of focused energy in a green robe, his movements erratic but precise. He was muttering to himself, pointer tapping against a map of Vale that had three different timelines scribbled on it in various colored inks. A half-drunk cup of coffee steamed nearby, forgotten.
Doppel's ears twitched.
A mischievous glint sparkled in her golden eyes.
She reached into her pouch, rustling past stolen pens, snack wrappers, a ribbon from Team CFVY's room—and her fingers closed around something solid. Rough. Old.
It was a clay pot. Small, cracked at the rim, decorated with faded, hand-painted fish. It probably came from a decorative shelf in someone's dorm. To Doppel, it looked ancient enough.
She grinned.
Lowering herself silently, she loosened a vent grate just above Oobleck's desk. With all the ceremony of an ancient offering, she gently lowered the pot onto an open spot between a dusty scroll and a fossilized fang. The pot made a soft, satisfying thunk as it touched down.
Oobleck froze mid-sentence.
His head snapped toward the pot, eyes widening.
"My word..." he breathed, leaning in with reverent awe. "Where did this come from...?"
He reached out, fingers trembling as though he were handling a piece of lost civilization. He squinted, turning the pot in the light, muttering rapidly. "Primitive brushwork... symmetrical fluting... aquatic themes, possibly Vacuan coastal influence—but the patina—oh, the patina! This... this might predate even pre-Founding craftsmanship...!"
He spun in a circle. "Extraordinary! Absolutely extraordinary!"
From above, Doppel pressed her face to the vent, watching him with the softest grin of triumph. She giggled—but ever so lightly, like the fading echo of a chime in a windless room. Her amber eyes shimmered with amusement before she slowly, silently pulled back into the darkness, vanishing into the crawlspace like a ghost.
The light from Oobleck's office dimmed behind her.
The vent closed.
The golden eyes were gone.
And below, Oobleck remained frozen, cradling a dorm-room knickknack as though it held the secrets of Remnant's entire forgotten history.
Back in the vents, high above the sleeping halls of Beacon, Doppel had returned to her favorite little perch. Tucked into a cozy corner just above the corridor near her team's dorm, she was curled into her usual cat-loaf position—knees folded under, arms resting atop them, back rounded, tail lazily flicking from side to side.
The soft crunch-crunch of dried fish filled the silent crawlspace, echoing gently off the narrow steel walls. She nibbled with idle delight, fangs neatly tearing through the crispy snack—liberated earlier from the cafeteria storage. A half-chewed bone stuck out the side of her mouth as she flicked open her scroll with one hand.
1:02 AM.
A blink. Then a small pout.
Her golden eyes glowed faintly in the dim ventlight, squinting at the time. "Still so early... nyaaa..."
She stretched in place, arms rising overhead with a tiny yawn, then sagged back into her loaf with a flump of fur and hoodie. Her mind raced—not with stress or obligation—but with the giddy boredom of a mischief-maker who had already exhausted her playground. She had stolen from students, scared a professor, faked out security doors, rated dorm aesthetics, and made a renowned archaeologist believe in an ancient pottery conspiracy.
What else was there to do?
Then, a spark.
Her ears perked. Her eyes gleamed.
Vale.
Of course.
Her pupils narrowed like a hunter spotting prey. She hadn't prowled the city in weeks. The streets would be quieter now, no patrols, no curfews... and plenty of dark alleyways and rooftops to bounce between. Maybe a fish stand left out to "air," or a pastry shop with an open vent. Oh—and the street performers might have left coins unattended in their hats...
She slipped back into the vents with purpose, fingers twitching with excitement, scroll clipped back onto her belt. She moved faster now, her steps near-silent, echoing softly through the metal corridors as she crawled toward her exit path—one she'd mapped weeks ago.
The hangar.
One of the late-night Bullheads was still parked there. Big cargo type, no guards around this time of night, and Beacon's lax perimeter security made it too easy for someone with her skills. She dropped silently from a ceiling vent into the shadows of the hangar, flicked her ears toward the hum of engines, and smirked.
A cargo ramp was half-lowered.
Perfect.
She crept beneath the hull, slinked up the ramp on all fours, and tucked herself between two large supply crates as the loading system engaged. Within minutes, the Bullhead lifted, engines roaring into the night sky, carrying its secret stowaway toward Vale's glittering silhouette on the horizon.
---
The flight was smooth, and the city—once it came into view—was exactly as she remembered. Bright towers. Distant sirens. Lights that shimmered on the ocean like a thousand lazy fireflies. A giant jungle of humans and faunus alike, all asleep in their little boxes.
By the time the Bullhead touched down and opened its ramp, Doppel was already gone.
She dropped silently to the ground, the shadows hugging her figure as she landed with a graceful crouch.
A grin slowly spread across her face.
"Time for a stroll, nya~"
And just like that, she disappeared into Vale's moonlit alleys—another shadow among shadows, golden eyes flicking from window to rooftop, ears twitching to every passing breeze.
The city wouldn't know what hit it.
The streets of Vale were quiet at this hour, bathed in the soft blue-gray hue of early night fading deeper. Neon signs flickered lazily in the distance—dim bars, closed boutiques, silent cafés. Doppel moved through it all like a shadow, darting from alley to fire escape, from railing to rooftop. Her limbs carried her with feline ease, arms and legs flexing in rhythm as she bounded in all fours along the shingles and concrete ridges of the city.
"Vale looks the same as always... nya," she murmured to herself, her voice a purr against the wind.
She stopped atop an old brick building, crouched low, tail flicking behind her as her golden eyes scanned the street below. A lone figure stumbled out of a bar's side entrance, his tie loosened and collar askew. He looked like a walking cliché of overworked misery—an office worker, maybe forty, hunched and slow, keys dangling from his hand and a bottle loosely gripped in the other. His breath steamed in the cool air, steps uneven.
Doppel's lips curled into a smirk.
"Ohho~ what do we have here, nya~?"
She dropped silently to the pavement behind him and pressed herself into the shadows, gears turning in her mind. And then—with a shimmer of her semblance—her body shifted.
Gone was the small, scruffy cat faunus. In her place now stood a tall, sultry woman in a daring red dress that hugged every generous curve. Blonde hair fell in elegant waves over her bare shoulders, a beauty mark resting tastefully just above the plunging neckline. Her eyes half-lidded, lips full and glossy, she swayed forward with a predator's grace.
The man blinked through his drunken haze, eyes widening instantly at the vision before him. "O-O-oh... wow... hello..."
She licked her lips slowly, letting the silence grow thick between them. Then she took one step closer. Her hips rolled with every motion, like music played only for her.
"Rough night, big boy?" she whispered, her voice a warm syrup against the cold. Her fingers traced along his lapel, and she leaned in with a teasing breath that tickled his ear.
The man stammered, completely entranced. "Y-Yeah, I-I guess... you uh... you lost or...?"
"Oh, I found exactly what I was looking for~" she purred.
She guided him backward until his back gently hit the brick wall. One hand braced beside his head, the other trailing up his chest with slow, deliberate motion. She tilted her head as if about to kiss, lips barely brushing his.
Then she paused.
Her eyes flicked down.
There it was.
A wedding ring.
Doppel's smirk widened, now tinged with sharp amusement.
"Mm... naughty, naughty," she whispered, pressing her chest to his and giving the faintest tease of a sigh. Her lips finally met his in a feather-light kiss—not romantic, not passionate. Just enough to set his brain ablaze.
Then she pulled back.
And winked.
"Maybe next time, lover boy~"
She slipped a small folded note into his hand, gave a finger wave, and turned with a deliberate sway of hips, walking off into the dark. The man stood frozen, lips parted, heart racing.
Behind the next alley, she shifted back to her true form, the red dress vanishing into smoke as her ears twitched up again, hoodie back in place. Her laughter came in soft bursts, stifled by a hand over her mouth as she doubled over behind a dumpster.
"Men and their horny asses..." she snickered. "So easy, nya~"
She held up the prize from the encounter—a wallet thick with lien and IDs, probably dropped in the daze. She tossed the fake number note behind her like confetti, then tucked the cash into her belt pouch, letting it jingle softly.
Mission complete.
And her night?
Far from over.
With a flourish, she scaled the next building, disappearing into the rooftops once more—just a shadow with glowing amber eyes, roaming her urban playground.
The city lights grew dimmer as Doppel descended into the less charming veins of Vale.
The alleys narrowed. The buildings grew taller, the shadows heavier. The pavement here was cracked, grime clung to the walls, and neon signs flickered with half-lit letters advertising pawn shops, questionable massage parlors, and ramen stalls that looked like they hadn't passed a health inspection in years. This was the "Lower Strip," as some called it—others simply referred to it as the Crawl.
It was where the unwanted gathered. Vagrants, pickpockets, black market dealers, dust smugglers. And of course, faunus kids who once had no other place to go.
Doppel knew it well.
The scent of oil, sweat, and hot street food filled the air as she padded through like a ghost, hood up, golden eyes darting beneath a tangle of dark hair. She passed a bounty board nailed into a rusted pipe post. Her own face was there—drawn hastily in chalk outlines, with a caption underneath:
"WANTED: DOPPEL (a.k.a. THE VENT RAT) — Petty theft / property damage / unauthorized shapeshifting."
Someone had scribbled "Too small to be a threat lol" next to it.
She snorted.
"Rude."
Then she turned a corner into one of the darkest alleyways—narrow, littered, almost forgotten—and began her transformation.
In seconds, her small frame bulked out. Her face aged, grew a wiry black beard with a few peppered gray strands, her eyes turned a dull brown, nose crooked. A hunch formed in her back and a ragged cloak formed over her shoulder. Her voice dropped into a gritty rasp, wheezy and full of that suspicious merchant tone.
The legendary "Old Merrek" was back in business.
From within her coat she laid out a crate (well, more like a broken box propped on two bricks) and began placing her "wares" on display.
A slightly used hair curler.
An unopened scroll charger still with the Beacon tag.
A half-eaten but "limited edition" candy bar.
Three glitter pens.
A "genuine antique" ceramic frog (that she totally stole from a dorm shelf).
And—because Doppel couldn't help herself—a single Beacon-issue sock labeled "RARE" with a glowing sign stuck to it.
"Ohhhh come gather 'round, ye noble rascals and unfortunate freeloaders," she croaked out in perfect, showy rhythm. "Today's your lucky night! Authentic academy goods, stolen—I mean salvaged—from the highest towers of society!"
A few shady figures began to take interest—one toothless ex-thief, a few debt-hounded gamblers, and even a very bored looking White Fang grunt who clearly wasn't supposed to be here.
One man picked up the scroll charger. "This actually works?"
"Of course, my good sir!" Merrek-Doppel rasped. "You see, it contains premium stolen aura from a top-ranking student. Charges your scroll and boosts your confidence—maybe even helps you pass your next heist exam!"
"...seriously?"
"Only fifty lien."
"...I'll take two."
Doppel pocketed the money with a grin that twitched beneath the fake beard. Her tail twitched with contained excitement under the cloak.
She sold the glitter pens next—claiming they were used by a Huntress in a secret assassination mission. The ceramic frog? Allegedly cursed. The sock? "Belonged to a legendary warrior maiden." She even haggled a man into paying thirty lien for the candy bar after claiming it had dust-infused caramel that could "enhance the senses."
The entire operation was chaos wrapped in charm, and she was loving every second of it.
As she cackled through her sales pitch, one figure—a tall, masked thug in a long coat—tilted his head at her and muttered when he notices a cat's tail, it's a mishap of her shape-shifting that she was so lazy to do, "...wait a second. Aren't you that one—"
Before he could finish, puff!
The disguise dropped in a shimmer of light, and Doppel was already gone—scrambling up the fire escape, fish snack clamped in her mouth, newly acquired lien tucked into her hoodie pocket.
"Nyahahaha~! You snooze, you lose~!" she sang from above, flipping him off with her tail swishing proudly behind her.
Another night. Another haul.
And Beacon?
Still had no idea.
Under the muted glow of flickering neon signs and the soft hum of distant traffic, Doppel darted through Vale's moonlit streets like a shadow stitched into the city's seams. She'd danced her usual dance: poking at sleepy cops as they fought to stay awake over boxes of sticky donuts, knocking on patrol vehicle windows with a wink before vanishing like fog. One even spilled hot coffee on himself.
Nyahahaha~ worth it, she had giggled to herself.
By the docks, night market vendors were starting to wrap up, weary and half-asleep, grumbling about taxes and bad backs. That was Doppel's cue. One by one, crates of fresh seafood seemed to lighten as she passed by—delicate fingers slipping in, snatching grilled eel sticks, smoked mackerels, sardine buns, and anything that vaguely smelled like fish. No one noticed. Not until it was too late and they heard the distant laughter and saw a tail vanish across the rooftops.
Later, near the outskirts of the commercial district, Doppel made another performance—shifting into a sultry blonde bombshell with a scandalous dress that practically oozed perfume and temptation. Her golden eyes were now smoky and half-lidded, her lips crimson and slow to curl. She waltzed past a drunken office worker with just enough sway in her hips to earn a gasp.
He was clearly married.
Perfect.
She leaned against him with a breathy coo and a playful stroke of her finger along his collar. He was practically melting.
"Good evening, handsome~"
Just as his wife rounded the corner.
There were shouts. Screams. A slap.
And Doppel? Long gone—back in her cat form, perched on a rooftop ledge in a loaf position, chewing happily on a grilled fish while the city burned in her wake.
Surrounded by her "haul," she looked like some victorious thief queen. Stolen scroll charms, hairpins, rings, wallets, skewers of fried stuff, and half a pie still warm in its tin. Her tail swayed lazily, golden eyes reflecting the city lights like candle flames.
It had been a good night.
But then—movement.
Down in the alley, beneath a broken lamppost, something caught her attention.
Small figures. Three of them. Faunus kids.
One had chipped horns. Another, a ragged tail. The smallest was just in a hoodie far too big for him, ears twitching as he quietly rummaged through a trash bin for anything remotely edible. They weren't fighting. Just... tired. Working together.
Doppel froze mid-bite.
She didn't smile. Didn't frown. Her face dropped into something rare—a neutral, slightly drawn look. Not sadness exactly, but a strange quietness, like her mind had stepped away from the present.
Ah... old times, her thoughts whispered. Same hungry eyes. Same alley.
She chewed once, slowly, eyes locked on them.
Then she stood.
A flick of her legs and she dropped soundlessly from the rooftop, landing like a shadow stretching forward. The kids noticed her immediately—froze on instinct. One clutched an old umbrella like a weapon.
Doppel towered over them—not by size, but presence. Her silhouette stretched under the lamp, her tail curling lazily behind her. She didn't say a word at first. Just studied them, like one might study their own reflection from years ago.
Then she knelt, low to their level, squatting with her knees open like she always did when plotting.
"Oi," she finally said, voice soft but with that mischievous lilt. "You lot hungry, nya?"
They didn't answer.
She smirked. Reached into her stash.
First came out the pie tin, then the sardine buns. A box of steamed dumplings followed. Then came a still-warm pastry and a bottle of sweet tea she definitely didn't pay for.
"Don't look at me like that," she said, placing it all between them like a cat bringing its kill. "I got too much fish for one cat anyway. Nibble fast or I change my mind, nya."
The smallest one took a cautious bite first.
Doppel leaned her chin on her hand, golden eyes flicking with impish amusement.
"Nyahaha~ guess I'm not the only stray around here."
The kids ate like wolves. She just sat there—smug, quiet, watching.
For just a moment, the city was still.
And then, tail flicking, she stood up again and turned away—already disappearing back into the shadows.
She didn't say goodbye.
She didn't need to.
The wind had softened by the time Doppel took one last look over Vale, perched lazily on the edge of a building sign. The city below still slumbered, kissed by the earliest hints of sunrise. Soft blue-gray hues dusted the rooftops, and the occasional hum of a bus or clatter of delivery carts echoed far below.
She pulled out her scroll—its screen cracked, cat-stickered, and very much overloaded with photos from the night.
5:34 AM.
"Mmnh, time flies when you cause chaos, nya," she murmured, stretching her arms high above her head until her back popped. Her tail flicked behind her, content and slow.
She gave the city one last, smug smirk. "Same old Vale. Full of suckers and snacks."
With a light hop, she dropped down, scampering across rooftops, darting through laundry lines, and eventually slipping down into a narrow alley beside a closed transit station. A yawning security officer stood by the ticket gate, too exhausted to notice the faint flicker of a shadow shimmying up one of the rails and slinking around the corner.
A few silent steps. A shift into a sleepy-looking janitor. And just like that, Doppel strode through the rear service gate of a Bullhead transport shuttle, climbed into the storage compartment beneath, and tucked herself between cargo crates without paying a single lien.
By the time the Bullhead groaned into motion and lifted into the sky, she was already halfway through a stolen bag of dried squid snacks.
---
The flight back to Beacon was short, the sky now painted with the soft blush of morning. Students would be stirring soon. Professors would be sipping their first sips of coffee. Glynda would be reviewing last night's test scores, likely still fuming over "Nyaa = 100."
Doppel grinned at the thought, even as she crawled along the undercarriage of the Bullhead before slipping off during descent, rolling into the shrubs lining Beacon's outer grounds. She dusted herself off, casually plucked a leaf from her hair, and made her way toward the dorm buildings with practiced stealth.
She reached the side panel near the vents—her little secret entryway. Her real door, as far as she was concerned.
The metal cover creaked just slightly as she opened it and slid inside. She was home.
Inside the vents, it was quiet and familiar. The air was cool, the scent of dust and metal oddly comforting. Her limbs moved with ease, every twist and turn memorized. This was her empire. Her sanctuary.
After weaving through the twisting ducts, she finally reached the custom-vent opening that led to Team CDXS's dorm room. She peeked down into it.
Cala: still asleep, barely fitting in the twin beds pushed together.
Kumiko: snoring softly on her floor mat, arm curled around her pillow like a child.
Sese: perfectly still and glowing faintly under the soft light of her sleeping mask, surrounded by skin-care jars arranged like sacred relics.
Doppel didn't say a word. Just slipped down from the vent with feline grace, belly-first into her corner nook—a carefully arranged pile of blankets, fish snack wrappers, and pilfered pillows. She curled into a tight cat loaf position, tail wrapping neatly over her feet, and buried her face into the fluff.
Her scroll buzzed once.
A message from herself.
A single picture: her holding up a stolen pie next to a confused drunk man, with the caption:
"Nya-ha. Beacon's #1 Agent of Chaos."
She smirked. Eyes closed. One ear twitched.
Then silence.
Doppel, the school menace, street fox, fish thief, and vent-gremlin extraordinaire, was once again... harmlessly napping.
Like nothing ever happened.
Around 6:30 AM, the sun peeked through the tall windows of Beacon Academy, casting golden streaks over polished floors and dormitory walls. A low, rising murmur was spreading like wildfire through the halls—students emerging from their rooms with tangled hair, bed creases on their faces, and confusion thick in the air.
Doors opened.
Voices rose.
"What the—? Who touched my drawer!?"
"My pancakes! They're gone!"
"Wait—why is there Ninjas of Love in the middle of the hallway!?"
"DID SOMEONE EAT THE FISH SUPPLY?!" came a bellow from the kitchen, the cafeteria staff in full panic mode.
"I'm missing my wallet—again!"
"Who... who stole my socks?!"
Amidst the chaos, an older student wandered around clutching a very out-of-place, vaguely dirty clay pot.
"Anyone lose... this?" he asked helplessly, as Oobleck sped by in the background, positively buzzing with excitement, clutching the same kind of pot in his arms like it was a priceless relic.
"It's pre-Valean! I can feel it!"
And in her office, Glynda Goodwitch stared at a pile of now-compromised test papers. Again. Her eyes bloodshot, her expression somewhere between a migraine and murder.
"Nyaa... equals... one hundred," she whispered slowly.
Then her eye twitched.
"... I swear, when I find that cat."
---
Back in Team CDXS's dorm room, the morning light finally broke in through the blinds, washing over the four occupants.
Cala stirred first—no surprise. She always woke like a soldier, sitting upright between her pushed-together twin beds with an armored stretch, her hair slightly disheveled.
She blinked at the sound of hallway yelling. Then frowned. "That's... new."
Kumiko let out a groggy grumble from her sleeping mat. "Why's it so noisy... Did a Grimm break into the dorms?"
Sese, already brushing her hair from beneath her velvet sleep mask, replied dryly, "No. If it were Grimm, there would be less complaining and more screaming."
She crossed the room with her usual morning elegance, peeking through the door's peephole.
"Hmm. There's a boy arguing with someone about missing boots. And... I believe that's Blake, red in the face and holding a book as if it betrayed her."
"...Doppel," Cala muttered.
Kumiko slowly sat up, rubbing her face with both hands. "What?"
As if on cue, a soft snore rose from the vents.
All three turned their heads in unison toward the small grate in the upper corner of their room—just above Cala's designated wall rack.
Inside, curled in her tight little cat loaf ball, surrounded by wrappers, fish bones, a glittery purse that absolutely wasn't hers, and what looked like a cafeteria sign that read "No Stealing", was Doppel.
She was snoring softly, mouth slightly open, a satisfied grin stretched across her face as if she'd just pulled off the heist of the century. Her tail flicked once before settling again.
Silence in the room.
"...Should we wake her?" Kumiko asked, brow raised.
"No," Cala said firmly.
"Definitely not," Sese echoed, already pulling out her scroll. Snap. "For documentation."
Another loud yell echoed from outside.
"I FOUND MY STUFF IN THE LAUNDRY ROOM!? WHY—?!"
Cala sighed deeply, already grabbing her uniform.
"Let's just get ready. The rest of the school will figure it out. Eventually."
Sese smirked slightly.
And in the vent, Doppel gave one more tiny, muffled "Nya~" in her sleep... then resumed snoring.