Chapter Text
Etho breathed out heavily through his mask, he could feel the uncomfortable feeling of sweat trickling down his neck and back. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair and turned the other way to take a swig of his water bottle. Next to him, Grian and Cleo were also in a similar state, gulping down water and breathing heavily.
“Alright, break time’s over, come on,” their instructor yelled. "We're sparring now!”
“Great,” Cleo said, standing up and holding a hand out to Etho. He accepted it and let her pull him up. “If I’m against Gem I’m dead,”
“Don’t worry,” Grian assured her. “Instructor will probably pair Gem with Etho,”
“Thanks for the assurance,” Etho grumbled, crossing his arms when they got to the right location.
“No problem,” Grian said, smiling.
Sure enough, written on the board was the three matches, Etho vs Gem was first, then Grian vs Scott, then finally, Cleo vs Impulse,
“Yes!” Grian shouted. “I was trying to find a reason to beat Scott up!”
“Don’t be so sure about that,” the blue haired man in question said, standing off to the side, observing the board. “But one thing I am sure about is that Etho is dead-” he sighed, “-and probably Impulse,”
“Wow, thanks, my wonderful supporting teammate,” Impulse said, walking up to Scott to observe the teams again. The smile that Cleo flashed Scott didn’t go unnoticed in Etho’s eyes, and the fact that the other man returned it confused him further.
“First, Etho and Gem, come on,” the instructor ushered the two up. Etho exhaled a deep breath and rolled his shoulders out.
Grian put a hand on Etho’s shoulder. “You got this, just remember, she’s fast and deceiving. Good luck.”
Etho half smiled under his mask before making his way to the mat and taking the wooden training sword that the instructor was holding out to him. He faced Gem, the sword gripped tightly in his hold, and they started to circle each other.
“Don’t be too disappointed when you lose,” she sweetly smiled at him, her expression in quite extreme contrast to her words.
Etho didn’t respond, instead, readying his sword.
“The only way for the match to end is if one of the players in incapacitated, or they forfeit. Ready? Three, two, one, fight!”
The instructor cut his arm through the tense space between Gem and Etho and the fight began.
Immediately, Gem dove in with her sword, slicing through the space between them, Etho dodged to the side, parrying the attack with his own weapon.
She swung again at his neck and he leaned back, dodging it by an inch and ducked behind her, hitting the back of her knee, but she spun with inhuman speed slashing with her sword again, aiming for his head. He parried but was knocked backwards at the sheer strength in her swing.
Etho grit his teeth and ducked as she slashed again, but instead of striking where he expected her, she angled it downwards at the last possible moment and hit him clean on the shoulder. Pain exploded on his collar bone, and he backed up, silently cursing himself. She had hit the shoulder of his sword arm, and already, the pain was spreading from his collar bone down his arm, there was definitely going to be a bruise after this match. He ran back at her, and ignoring the pain, raised his sword. She met it and their swords were left in a lock. Etho grit his teeth, pushing against her blade. He was winning, but the strain it put on his shoulder was painful. He had tried his best to hide it, but the pain must have been showing ever so slightly in his face because something in Gem’s expression changed.
“I bet it hurts,” she said in a low voice so that only Etho could hear her. “You should forfeit, just give me the win,”
Despite everything, Etho smiled. “Gem, I’m insulted, Do you even know me at all?”
He pushed harder against the sword and for a second, panic flashed in her eyes. That was when she decided to switch tactics.
Gem kicked Etho firmly in the chest with both of her legs, both of them falling to the ground as a result. All the air was knocked out of him the second he hit the ground. He rolled over to one elbow but a flash of movement in the corner of his eye thought otherwise.
Gem struck out with her sword, and Etho didn’t have enough time to roll out of the way as her sword came into contact with his right temple, he dropped back down to the ground, feeling something warm trickling down his face. His head was buzzing and his ears were ringing, there was no way he was winning this fight. But he refused to forfeit.
Gem crouched next to him, “Give up?” she asked, and underneath his mask, he smiled.
“You wish,” and he blindly struck out with his sword. It hit her in her upper arm and sent her stumbling backwards as he rolled over, and tried to stand despite the fact that his head was full of cotton from the blow. He tried to stabilize himself by putting a hand to the ground, but Gem was there first. And she was angry. She kneed him from where he was on the floor and he fell back down. She stepped on the wrist that was holding his sword forcing him to let go, and she grasped at his collar bringing up upwards to face her.
She smiled, “I bet you wish you forfeited.”
Etho coughed inside of his mask. “No, I don’t regret anything.”
She sighed. “Figures, good match?”
“Yeah, whatever.”
She delivered a punch to his head, causing everything to go black.
***
The second that Etho stepped onto the mat, Grian knew he was doomed. Grian had seen Etho fight before, and he was good, better than Grian or Cleo, but definitely not at Gem’s level. Grian had started to get hopeful when the two reached a sword lock, but when Etho had fallen, and Gem had delivered the powerful blow to the head with her sword, fear spiked through Grian. He knew Etho wouldn’t die here, the instructor wouldn’t permit it, and quite frankly, Grian thought that Gem wouldn't have been able to kill him, he was a valuable asset to the organization after all.
When Gem knocked Etho to the ground the second time, Grian knew it was over. Dread filled him, but it was what it was. After Etho had fallen the first time, Grian had been muttering under his breath, begging Etho to forfeit, but of course, Etho would never succumb to such a thing. If he was doing something, it was going to follow it all the way through, much to Grian’s displeasure. The muttering had only stopped when Cleo grabbed his hand and clutched it tight, obviously as nervous as Grian was about Etho.
“He’s not gonna make it,” Cleo said quietly to Grian.
“Yeah,” Grian said, resigned.
“Why won’t he just forfeit?” she muttered angrily as Etho fell the second time.
Grian groaned, “He’s done now,” and, sure enough, Gem punched him in the head one more time and Etho went limp.
Gem smiled, bright and happy, and Scott and Impulse cheered to the side, but the only thing Grian was concerned with was Etho.
The second the instructor blew his whistle, Grian and Cleo were darting towards Etho’s prone body on the ground.
“He’s bleeding,” Grian said, moving Etho’s silver hair out of the way where a steady stream of blood had already found its way down his face and into his mask.
“Yeah, help me carry him,” Cleo said, taking his legs. Grian took his arms and the two of them hoisted Etho over to the side by the training mat and gently laid him on the ground.
Grian crouched by him and lifted the hair where the blood was coming from. A gash leaking blood decorated the pale skin across his temple, and Grian stared at it for a second. Apparently wooden swords could cut if hit hard enough. Grian would have to note that.
“Next fight, Grian and Scott, please step up onto the mat,”
Grian cast one more look at Etho, and even with blood running down his face, he was the most beautiful person Grian had ever seen in his life. Then he looked at Cleo. “Can you take care of him?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
They nodded. “Just hurry, and don’t lose, because then I’m gonna feel bad if I beat Impulse.”
Grian turned away, and rushed back onto the mat. Scott was already on it, holding the sword on the hilt and handle, then looked up to take in Grian. A smirk was already set on his lips, as he let the sword drop down to his side.
“Well, let’s dance, shall we?” Scott smiled, and backed up to his respective spot. Grian clenched his jaw, tightly gripping his own sword in his dominant hand.
“The only way for the match to end is if one of the players in incapacitated, or they forfeit.”
Grian bounced on the balls of his feet, could he win?
“Three!”
It was against Scott, who was historically better than him.
“Two!”
But Grian still had a chance, right?
“One!”
He would have to try.
“Fight!” Just like Etho’s match, the instructor cut the air with his hand, and the fighters' tango began.
Grian lashed out at Scott, but the blue haired man masterfully dodged the attack with the grace of a dove. He twirled, sword in hand, almost like one would do in a dance, and sliced out towards Grian’s knee. Grian dodged to the side and tried to knee Scott in the head like Gem had done with Etho, but Scott twisted to the side.
There was a smile on Scott’s lips as he elegantly dodged another one of Grian’s attacks and moved behind him. He rapped the back of Grian’s head with the butt of his sword, causing Grian to stumble forward, and attempted a swipe at his back. Grian spun back around and parried his blade with his own, then Grian aimed for Scott’s head with his sword but put his real attention toward Scott’s leg. When Scott raised his arm to parry Grian’s attack, Grian ducked behind him and kicked the inside of Scott’s knee as hard as he could. The leg that Grian had attacked crumpled under the other man and he dropped to one knee, but before Grian could inflict any more damage, Scott spun around and elbowed Grian’s nose, still on one knee. Before Grian could stumble backwards Scott grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled Grian closer, then, using the leg that wasn’t on the ground, he swept Grian’s legs out from under him.
Grian fell to the ground with a pained grunt, and Scott was immediately on top of him, discarding his sword to the side and raising his fist.
“Want to forfeit?” Scott asked, fully prepared to beat the forfeit out of Grian.
Shame burnt Grian from the inside out, but what hurt him more was the still flowing blood leaking from his nose where Scott had elbowed him, and the impending pain that was to come if he didn’t forfeit then.
So, squeezing his eyes shut, he yelled, “I forfeit!”
The sharp sound of his loss in the form of a whistle cut through his ears, and Scott stood up, holding his hand out to Grian. With reluctance, Grian took it and let Scott help him up.
“That was a nice dance, wasn’t it?” Scott asked.
“Yeah, whatever,” Grian huffed, letting go of Scott’s hand and walking away. He could sense the eyes of the man still on him even when Grian had reached his own team. He turned around sharply but Scott was gone, conversing his victory to his teammates.
Grian turned back to Cleo and a disgruntled Etho. Grian breathed out a sigh of relief that Etho was sitting up, and looking up at him through concerned eyes.
“You’re bleeding,” was the first thing Etho said when Grian returned to the two.
“Yeah, I know,” Grian said, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, only for it to come back stained red.
“The final match is Cleo versus Impulse, please come onto the mat,”
Cleo sighed, “That’s my cue,
“Did you lose?” Etho asked, his voice seemed quieter than usual.
Grian pursed his lips and nodded. He sat down heavily next to his masked companion, reaching for his own water bottle.
“Does it hurt?” He asked, tentatively moving Etho’s hair to look at the bandage that Cleo had put on it.
Etho shrugged off Grian’s touch. “Not really, it’s fine, but you’re still actively bleeding,”
Etho handed Grian one of the unused tissues that Cleo had gotten to clean up the blood from Etho’s face.
Grian took it and plugged his nose with it, they sat in silence, watching Cleo’s match. She was winning by a lot, so Grian took his eyes off them. Instead, turning back to Etho.
“Etho..”
“Hm?” Etho asked, turning his head to face Grian.
“Why didn’t you forfeit?”
Etho fell silent, turning back to Cleo’s match, just when Grian thought he wasn’t going to respond, Etho replied,
“I guess it’s because I don’t want to disappoint if I can do anything about it.” He kept his eyes carefully trained on Cleo, and not looking at Grian. “Forfeiting is a cowardly move, no offense, but for me personally, I’d rather lose the hard way than avoid the risks.”
Grian turned back away from him just as Impulse forfeited. Cleo ran up to the group, a little out of breath, but no injuries.
“Come on, let’s get back to the dorm, the instructor said training’s over, the rest of the day’s free.”
“What does he mean rest of the day?” Grian complained as he stood up with a groan. “It’s practically night!”
Cleo held a hand out to Etho, and he accepted it, but when he stood up he wavered on the spot. Grian rushed to grab his shoulder, but at the hiss of pain, Grian realized it was his bad shoulder.
“Come on,” Cleo said, reaching for his good shoulder, but he backed out of her reach.
“It’s ok, really,” he said, and after living and killing with Etho for over a year, Grian could notice when his voice was tight with pain. This was one of those times.
“Etho-”
“No, Grian,” Cleo said, her voice resigned but hard.
“But-”
“Grian, just drop it,” Etho said,
Grian didn’t want to just drop it. He wanted Etho to be okay. But he didn’t have a choice as Etho and Cleo started forward toward the exit, so Grian was forced to follow them.
Once they exited the building, Etho stumbled and Cleo caught him. “Alright, nope, you’re not faking anymore,” she said, throwing his arm over her shoulders.
“Cleo-” Etho protested, but Cleo threw him a look that Grian didn’t catch, but if it was enough to make Etho give up, Grian was glad he wasn’t the target of the gaze.
Grian groaned. “We shouldn’t have walked here, we should have taken the car,”
“Wasn’t that your idea?” Cleo said. “Oh, wouldn’t it be an amazing idea to walk to training instead of driving?” She looked at Grian icily. “We didn’t even take the motorcycles!”
“Stop yelling,” Etho muttered. “It’s right in my ear.”
Cleo stopped yelling but she threw a look to Grian. A flash of red caught Grian’s gaze, and he realized another trickle of blood was falling down Etho’s face.
“Etho-”
“I know, let’s just get home before it gets super dark, the sun’s already down,”
“Yeah, okay,” Grian said.
Around halfway through the walk back, Etho stopped.
“Etho?” Cleo asked.
“Wait,” he responded, unhooking his arm from around her shoulders to shakily stand on his own. He turned back to the alleyway that the trio had just passed and used the wall for support, staring into it.
“I swear I just saw him,”
“Etho?” Grian asked timidly, coming up to his side. “What did you see?”
“Joel. I saw Joel Smallishbeans.”``