A/N: BONUS CHAP!
...
After the tension between them eased, Yelena temporarily abandoned the thought of confronting Natasha. She was more intrigued by how her sister had transformed so dramatically in just a few years, as if she had become a completely different person.
Natasha had once been a ruthless spy, skilled in deception, with blood on her hands. But now, to Yelena, she seemed like a sunflower in full bloom—warmer, more compassionate, with a tenderness in her eyes that made Yelena uneasy.
Yelena couldn't fathom what Natasha had gone through to bring about such an extraordinary change in both her strength and her demeanor.
"Did you have something to do with what happened to Dreykov, Natasha?" Yelena asked, cutting straight to the point.
More than a year ago, Dreykov had unexpectedly disbanded the Red Room and spent enormous sums to help the trained Black Widows return to their homes. Yelena had been one of them.
But Yelena had sensed something was off. Natasha's defection and Dreykov's increasingly erratic behavior had led her to believe it was all part of another conspiracy. Unable to trust the situation, Yelena fled, eventually settling down temporarily while she investigated Dreykov's strange actions.
Unexpectedly, not long ago, Dreykov had died in a mysterious explosion. The circumstances were so unusual that Yelena couldn't wrap her mind around what had truly happened. But now, with Natasha's sudden appearance and her noticeably enhanced physical abilities, Yelena's sharp mind quickly connected the dots.
Natasha didn't deny it. "Uh-huh," she hummed, before adding, "But his death had nothing to do with me. It's a pity he didn't die by my hand."
Yelena frowned, her gaze piercing. "So, it seems your life is much better than I imagined."
"Indeed," Natasha admitted with a light smile.
"But you didn't come to find me until now?" Yelena's voice dripped with dissatisfaction and resentment.
Natasha sighed, clearly troubled. "Yelena, you know—"
Before she could finish, Natasha suddenly turned her head toward the balcony, her instincts flaring. Without warning, she grabbed Yelena and pulled her aside.
In the next instant, a black arrow zipped through the air, narrowly missing them and embedding itself in the opposite wall.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
A series of beeps came from the small gap between the star-like metal parts of the arrow, signaling that it was about to explode. Natasha and Yelena realized the imminent danger at once.
In perfect sync, Yelena and Natasha sprinted toward the balcony, leaping off just as the explosion ripped through the living room behind them. Boom! The blast sent a massive shockwave through the building, flames erupting as the explosion reverberated through the neighborhood, sending pedestrians below into a frenzy of alarmed screams.
As they fell from four or five stories high, Yelena quickly pulled out her grappling gun, aiming it at the wall above. She fired, and the black hook secured itself to the third-floor wall, halting her fall. Instinctively, she glanced at Natasha, expecting her to do the same—only to see Natasha plummeting freely toward the ground.
Yelena's eyes widened in panic, her hand reaching out, but Natasha was already out of reach. To her astonishment, Natasha performed a graceful mid-air flip, landing firmly on her feet. She absorbed the impact with barely a bend in her knees, unfazed.
Yelena descended slowly using her grappling hook, landing beside Natasha with a bemused sigh. "So, you're secretly a superwoman in a blue suit who can fly, huh? When were you planning to show me the big 'S' on your chest?"
Natasha shot her a playful look, glancing across the street as if unfazed by the chaos they'd just escaped.
Natasha immediately activated her Observation Haki. Instantly, the world around her seemed to slow down. Two streets away, she sensed a powerful malice—a presence far stronger than most, even stronger than Yelena.
"Hey, we gotta go," Yelena urged, tugging on Natasha's sleeve. But Natasha shook her head, glancing at the curious crowd gathering around them. She whispered, "There's only one person out there. Follow me."
Without waiting, Natasha dashed toward a narrow alley. Yelena, reluctant but trusting, gritted her teeth and followed close behind.
Despite Yelena's intense training and impressive speed, which could rival that of an Olympic sprinter, she struggled to keep up with Natasha. They weaved through alleyways, cutting across streets, dodging bystanders and pushing through crowds. Natasha was focused, her senses locked onto the figure moving rapidly through the area.
The more Yelena ran, the more frustrated she became. No matter how hard she pushed herself, Natasha seemed untouchable, always a step ahead. "Has this woman mutated or something?" Yelena muttered under her breath, embarrassed by how easily Natasha was outpacing her.
Their high-speed chase through the crowded neighborhood drew attention from pedestrians, many of whom stared in surprise at the two women darting through the streets.
They alarmed many people, especially the man being chased.
However, the man was no ordinary target. Dressed in tactical gear, with a quiver slung across his back and a sleek black composite bow in hand, he moved across rooftops with the precision of a parkour expert. He followed a carefully planned escape route, leaping from one building to another. After a few minutes of running, he vaulted over the edge of a four-story building, grabbing onto the metal fire escape attached to the wall, and descended quickly to the alley below.
A motorcycle, prepped and waiting, stood at the ready. He reached it and started the engine, but just as he was about to speed away, he felt a sharp gust of wind behind him. His instincts kicked in. Without thinking, he ducked, then rolled off the bike. In one fluid motion, he pulled an arrow from his quiver and aimed, his movements precise and deadly.
But he was too late.
Before he could release the arrow, a heavy blow slammed into his chest, like being struck by a speeding train. The impact sent him flying. Blood sprayed from his mouth as his body smashed into a wall, rebounding off it before collapsing onto the ground, gasping for air.