Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Her gloved fingers ran along the thin, brown deckled paper, tracing over the crude depiction of a Jinn—a demon crafted of fire. Her amber eyes tracked the words above the drawing, reading the little details that followed the mythology of the creature. It was an excerpt she had read at least a hundred times, yet never once did it lose her interest.

Her attention was only drawn away by the arrival of the teapot and infuser. She sank into her familiar surroundings: A Japanese-style teahouse. The walls were painted white, the interior consisting mostly of wooden beams and beautiful cutlery: bowls, small plates, cups, every last piece a gracious homage to Japanese culture. There was a homey feeling to it. She had never been to Japan.

Slipping her slender fingers between the small gap of the handle and porcelain body of the teapot, she lifted the spout, pouring the steaming water into her cup. The steam shot up towards the ceiling. Inside the cup was a blend of rare and unique tea leaves imported from Japan—a special request she had been granted from the tea house. Only once the cup was filled to the brim did she return the tea pot to its tray, leaving it to steep. She could now return to the pages of her beloved book.

The silence was what she enjoyed most about this atmosphere, it was easy to lose herself in the reading. A sudden BANG disrupted the once quiet atmosphere in the teahouse. She didn’t get a chance to look at the source before the wooden chair across from her cushioned seat was turned so that the backrest faced her.

Once her eyes met the man across from her, it instantly clicked. Across from her sat a man with his arms crossed on top of the backrest, his posture relaxed, slumped. His lingering gaze was piercing, yet reassuring in a way.

“Tadashi Iwai.” The words left her lips before she realized she spoke them.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite asshat… Lilith.” Tadashi responded, his voice confident and smooth in contrast to her uneasiness.

“I wouldn’t have expected you to come into Purple Lotus.” It didn’t feel right to see him here.

Her tea had slipped her mind in surprise, but smelling the figs and honey-like sweetness reminded her. Her amber eyes return to the blend, she noted it fully steeped.

“I don’t come into Purple Lotus… ever,” he responded earnestly. “Isn’t the word ‘cultural appropriation’,” he paused to think, “or ‘appreciation’? I couldn’t tell ya.” 

It was easy to lose herself in conversation with Tadashi, it always had been. Trying to figure out what half his words meant was a puzzle for her to lose time in.

Lilith decided to shut the book, both to avoid the curious gaze of Tadashi on the pages, and to allow her focus to stick to him. Holding their shared eye contact, she brought the smooth porcelain rim of the cup to her lips, taking a brief yet savoured sip.

“The term you are looking for is appreciation, Tadashi,” monotonous delivery—it was how she always spoke. “And, I wouldn’t expect you to come to the teahouse. I suppose this would be the only place we could encounter each other.” She drew in a brief breath. “I mainly come here for their rare imports. This tea—the Dragon’s Well—is one of the rarest teas they sell here… and my favorite. Enough talk about the tea here though. How are things with you?”

“Holy, you still talk a lot,” he whispered under his breath. “I don’t feel very appreciated.” The words were accompanied by his smug smirk that had a way of getting on her nerves.

Lilith sat in silence, allowing him to continue. Her lips met the rim of the cup in another sip. 

“I know you like this place—you come here too often not to. But you ought to admit… a little on the nose, isn’t it?” Tadashi placed his hand on the table. Lilith noticed the dark purple circles around his knuckles. She kept it in mind.

“Things have been alright. Three long years since we last saw each other; I figured it’s time we reunited, don’t ya’ think? You had to have missed me at least a bit?” The hand once on the table suddenly had a grasp on her cup. Lilith met the action with some resistance before she yielded her hold on the cup. She shot a glare of a thousand daggers at him. Tadashi took a sip from her tea, placing it back after. 

“Nah.”

“Please don’t cast your demons on me.” He quickly added once he noticed the glare. 

“You’re lucky I take my study seriously, or I would’ve.” She finished her cup of tea, coming back to his earlier reaction regarding it. “The Dragon’s Well is an acquired taste. It wouldn’t be something I suggested for you.”

“Only thing I acquired from that was a stomach ache.” He had that same smirk. “Would you believe it if I told you I ran into little old sourpuss Jin? Out in the forest. He went to live a cabin life, became a painter and a woodsman, cutting wood and all.”

Lilith tilted her head at the news, raising an eyebrow. “Jin… I haven’t seen him for the longest. How is he holding up?”

“I think he’s good but that guy is everything all at once,” he shifted his eyes to the table. “Ever since I brought him back, he went overtime with his whole mission thing… not that you’d know, you left us pretty quick.” It wasn’t spite or judgement she caught, but something was there.

“Well first of all, I wanted to pursue my dream job, you knew that. And… I didn’t mean to leave so soon. I just hope he won’t get on me for it.” She chuckled dryly.

Tadashi was out of his chair after a single blink, it had only been a second.

“Why don’t you go see him? We can go together. I was going to see him anyway.”

“A house call wouldn’t be the worst idea.” It was a reluctant agreement, but still an agreement.

Tadashi was already heading straight for the door. “Fair warning, there’s a sixty percent chance we might get attacked on the way there..” 

“What’s new?” She muttered. “Well, I am always ready to defend if need be.” Lilith gestured to the inside of her coat. Holstered snugly between her beige peacoat and her maroon dress shirt were two blacked out .357 revolvers on either side of her torso, connected to a shoulder harnesses.
Lilith always wasn’t eager to use her last measure in public, she wouldn’t be able to either way; risking getting caught was not something she could afford at the moment.  She was making a lot of progress in her field.

“I owe a lot of people. I’ve pissed off even more people. So… don’t be surprised.”

“I’m not. I remember how you were. I would be shocked if you didn’t cause trouble.” She stated simply, following closely.

“Oh that’s good because it was more like ninety percent. I just wanted you to come along very badly.” His head turned to meet her amber coloured eyes with his own—they were a stark contrast to his average brown. “It’s been forever since I’ve been seen with a beautiful lady. They disappear when you lose the money.” He laughed, exiting the Purple Lotus.

“So you’re using me to not get attacked?”

“Not a nice way to put it… and who said anything about you stopping it? I just want to be around a pretty girl.” Tadashi was always so smug and quick with his retorts.

Lilith followed almost mindlessly, wanting to see him off to his car before she got in hers. She watched him spin on his heel abruptly, walking backwards.

“Get ready for that… what did you say? Defending?” He pointed backwards, towards a car.

Lilith followed his finger, her gaze wandering all the way until she saw a group of five men up ahead. They were surrounding a grey Mercedes. It was a station wagon, current year model. It took the narrowing of her eyes to catch the details: bruises on the men's faces—bad bruises. Three of them held metal baseball bats. The other two appeared unarmed, though Lilith knew better than to assume.

“Right… well, I will let you fight your own fights, Tadashi. I don’t want to get involved in your little… altercation, unless they jump at me, or you can’t handle them.” She had already decided: he was more trouble than he was worth.

“Wow, so much for having your friends back.” Despite the words, his tone was light. There wasn’t an ounce of worry in his stance. “I can handle them just fine.”

The approaching men were just feet away when a chipper, bright red, six-sided die appeared from thin air, hovering above the tacky leather jacket Tadashi was wearing.

“Would you like to activate Lucky Gamble?” the tiny red mascot squeaked at him, its stubby arms and legs flailing in the air excitedly.

“Not this time, little buddy. Maybe next time.” Tadashi swiped his hand up over his shoulder, causing the dice to dissipate.

This was done much to the confusion of Lilith. It was just like Tadashi to make a fight harder on himself, the man loved his fun.

Before they had a chance to react, Tadashi rammed his broad shoulder directly into the midsection of the closest man. It drove a split right between the remaining four, taking the man into the trunk of a red van parked in their way, the double doors denting inwards.

He didn’t get the chance to follow up as a sharp SHING of metal cutting through the air told Tadashi to duck his head. A bat collided with the back window of the van, shattering it inwards. 

Tadashi brought his arm high and took another bat straight to the armpit—avoiding getting hit in his ribs. He had shifted his body to minimize the impact, not having time to move out of the way. His eyes darted between the three other men who could attack him. He had to act quickly before they regrouped.

Spinning in a circle, he used the bat wedged snuggly between his tricep and armpit to spin the man on the other end. It forced the three to back up and avoid the path their friend was taking. Now on opposite ends, Tadashi relinquished control of the bat while the man was tugging for it back, sending him back into his friend who had been recovering against the van doors.

Soaring through the air, Tadashi delivered a brutal double-legged dropkick that connected with the jawbone of the man who had just been sent. The sound of bone crunching under his white sneakers was followed by the THUMP of both the men going through the doors and into the van.

Tadashi landed hard on his palms, asphalt and small pebbles digging into them irritatingly. He transitioned to a sloppy runner's stance, brown eyes tracking up to see the next attack.

A big clenched fist met the side of Tadashi’s head with fury. He was sent rolling, his back smacking and arching against the bumper plate of the van. 

“That’s it!” Excitement replaced the focus that had cloaked Tadashi’s face previously.

He got a good look at the boot coming straight for his face, it was likely going to demolish every feature on his handsome face if he ate it. Ripping his head to the side, he avoided the boot nearly, his body moving in unison with his big mouth. 

“Don’t outstretch your legs in a fight.” 

A sharp elbow to the knee reinforced his point, the joint shattering inwards with a practiced precision. Like a tower without a base, the once big man crumpled to the floor. Tadashi thought he looked much tinier like this, the realization got a laugh out of him. 

Back on his feet, his eyes caught a glimpse of an elbow flying towards his nose quicker than his body could react at the moment. He did the second best thing, slamming his forehead into the forearm of the arm, preventing the elbow from causing real damage that could cut him open. 

“You still suck at jumping—it’s all at once, dumbass.” His hand clenched around the throat of one of the final two. The stinging in his forehead wasn’t bad enough to hinder him, the bat that collided with his upper back was.

His grip loosened due to the impact, allowing the man he once had to send a balled hand smashing against Tadashi once, then twice. The other man, still holding a bat, slammed it against his upper back again. The two overwhelmed him now that he had been forced to a knee.

Tadashi endured another strike to the back of his head. If he kept being battered like this, he would end up a paraplegic. 

Powering past the pain ringing through his entire body, he pivoted and slammed his shoulder into the chest of the man holding the bat. It gave him an opening while he stumbled, using his superior strength to take a wide swing at him, a blow that dropped him quickly. As fun as this was, Lilith was waiting.

The man was scrambling on the floor, the bat had been sent out of his hand. Tadashi didn’t give him a second to breathe, moving with shocking speed for a man of his height and build. 

He bashed his knee upwards, sending it all the way through even when the man's head snapped back viciously. Tadashi used the momentum to bring his sneaker crashing down on his upper back, crushing him like a soda can.

His breaths were drawn sharp and quick—not focused on conservation. Tadashi turned to face what would be the final man. He was ready to crush him the same way.

“I’ll shoot you! I’m not messing around!” 

A shaken and desperate plea shouted from the lips of someone who was now pointing a gun right at Tadashi. His hands shook yet his enraged expression let Tadashi know he probably wasn’t bluffing.

“You shoot at me… and this stops being a fight,” Tadashi took unbothered strides towards him. His voice was low, not threatening, but serious. “It’ll be a deathmatch, and all of your friends are going to join in.”
Choked back noises were the only response Tadashi got. His index finger was twitching on the trigger, fighting to pull it.

“Good boy~” Tadashi cooed, using his thumb to gently push the handgun until it was aimed at the two bloodied men in the van. “I knew you didn’t have it in you… I do though.”

Using his forehead, Tadashi crushed the man’s nose. He collapsed to the floor, Tadashi standing over him. Tadashi wasn’t done, not even close. 

He gave him just enough time to process what was going to happen.

Then he let loose.

He began to thrash the man, pounding his skull into the ground time and time again with heavy punches. Once his face was bloodied beyond recognition, Tadashi moved onto his torso. He started with his sides, then his abdomen: he stepped, punched, kicked, and threw merciless elbows.
Tadashi was lost in the fun of it until he no longer was. He noticed the man breathing, that was enough for him. 

He stood up and wiped his knuckles off on the side of his black jeans. He could feel that his knuckles were aflame, the burning sinking in. The thought of Lilith suddenly entered his mind.

His eyes wandered around the parking lot, spinning in a complete three-sixty, he realized that Lilith had left at some point.
“Lilith! Lilith! Lilith!” He shouted, calling like a lost child. He wasn’t sure why she would leave without so much as a goodbye, but he had faith she would end up at Jin’s house.

He turned his attention to the bloodied, still-breathing heap of man on the ground. He felt a sense of responsibility for the guy.
“Alright, let me be your hero.” 

His hand came down to the man’s soaked hair, dragging him across the asphalt and to his Mercedes.

Tadashi slipped his hand into the pocket of his jacket, fumbling around until he found his keys. Using them to open the trunk, he tossed the man in by his hair. It took some effort, needing to cram him in. He did his best to ignore the blood leaking onto the premium carpet and padding.
The sad sight made him think, but he didn’t need the sight to think about her, she had been on his mind since he found Jin. Her presence in his thoughts were made more prominent by his conversation with Lilith. 

She deserved a visit.

“One quick pit stop, then we can get you help.” He shut the trunk.
<><>
Looking up at the big house, it couldn’t be considered a cabin with how massive it was. Made of stone, wood, and glass, the place was visually appealing. It didn’t look very secure though, a massive window showcasing her bedroom on the second floor left little to the imagination. Sunlight peeked through the many slender trees that were no longer covered in beautiful green leaves. The sight was almost ghastly; the brown, dead grass was just another contributing factor. Despite all of that, it was hard for him to not still admire the sight. 

The house was hers, it looked like it belonged to her.

That made him happy. 

“There’s an old friend at the door!” Tadashi called from outside, two slow knocks then three quicker ones finished by one hard knock. 

It came open quicker than he expected, not having heard her steps. There she was. She was just like he remembered her.

Jet-black hair that flowed straight to her mid-back, bangs cut in a strict line like a ruler. Her skin still had that pale yet healthy appearance. Her eyes were sharp, with red tinted irises. Her nose was that delicate slope.

“Tadashi!?” The woman had a hold on him before he could do the same, wrapping him up in a hug so very tight.
“Cerys.” He breathed out, returning the hug, though not as tight.

The two of them remained like that for a moment. It was a moment that he could hang onto for a little bit longer than it would last. Cerys smelled the same as he remembered, her scent reminded him of roses and oakwood. She was a flower unperturbed by anything other than itself, a moment in time he wanted to linger in.

His thoughts cut out when she pulled back, her head tilting to look up at Tadashi.
“Wha—” She hitched once she caught sight of the cut on his cheek. “—t happened to you?” The words drawed out, losing their joy. 

“Don’t worry about my face, they can't ruin my good looks… can we go inside?” He swatted down the hand which had come up to his cheek. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m allowed to be worried.” It was clear there was more she wanted to say, things she held back.

Tadashi looked around the place, hearing the door close behind him. It was about what he expected: a beautiful wood interior that looked polished beyond polish. There were art pieces scattered on the shelves, knick knacks that held no meaning. Regardless of what he thought, Cerys was doing well for herself, that was of little surprise to him. Both of them had come from wealthy families. Certain things were expected of them. She lived up to those expectations where he couldn’t.

“It’s great to see you… more than great. But this is so… just—” She was at a loss for words, having too much to say. The tension in the air was too thick for a knife, they’d need a chainsaw.

“I know, but I saw Lilith earlier, and it reminded me that I needed to see you.” It was a quick response, not letting the silence linger.

“Just like you saw Jin? Also, you went to see Lilith before me?” There was a tinge of amusement with a hint of disappointment.

“You talk to Jin?” Tadashi was surprised—Jin hadn’t mentioned it.

“Yes… no… he lives in the same neighbourhood as me.” She shrugged, going to stand in front of him.

“Yes and no? Which one is the answer?” He pushed in the gentlest way he could.

“You know exactly what I mean. You know where we left off,” Cerys’ hand came up, nudging his shoulder with some force. “You also know you disappeared on me.”

Tadashi’s expression soured, taking a step back. His hand came up and brushed his shoulder off where she touched subconsciously.

“Things were weird, Cerys.” It was a defensive response.

“You were my best friend.” She pushed back mindlessly.

“Were?” Tadashi’s eyebrow raised, getting more sour.

There was that moment of silence between them that Tadashi so valiantly fought to try and avoid. Their held eye contact was straining—neither one of them could break it without admitting defeat.

Cerys turned her back to him with one swift motion, pushing her body towards the kitchen and right to her wine rack. She wasn’t acknowledging him anymore, burying her head into the kitchen cabinet and searching through her rack.
Tadashi watched her, allowing him to breathe. It also gave him the time to remember why he didn’t want to come here in the first place. He knew this was how things were going to go.

“You still are my best friend, Tadashi. You know that,” Cerys turned to him, a sealed bottle of wine in hand. “You’re my best friend and we haven’t talked in three years.”

“I wasn’t going to make you choose between me and Jin.” 

He made his way towards the white, leather couch tucked in the corner of her living room. 

“I just came here to see you again. I did miss you, really.”

“I know you did… I’m surprised you survived without me.” 

Cerys followed closely behind him, sitting right beside him. She placed the bottle of wine right between them on the pine wood coffee table. 

“And I never agreed with what Jin did to you. You know I get it.”

“Don’t pity me, Cer.” His voice raised slightly. It was not in anger, but to stress the importance of his words. “There’s nothing to get… nothing you should get. I did what I did.”

Tadashi’s gaze stuck to the bottle of wine resting on the table, reading the label. He could tell it wasn’t anything special, maybe something you would find at a gas station, or a low-end liquor store.

“As I said, I got it.” 

Cerys’ voice was softer. A gentle hand rested upon his, dragging his attention back to her. 

“I was there every time your mom left you to chase after your dad, and I was there every time your dad cheated, and I was there every argument with your sister, and I saw how much their being gone sucked for you. And if anyone gets having asshole parents, you know it’s me.”

“You’re too good at this for your own good.” Tadashi’s hand remained still under hers for a few comforted moments before sliding out from under it. 

“It wasn’t on purpose either...”

“Jin wouldn’t get that—not with what happened.” 

Once his hand slid out from under hers, she rested them naturally on the top of the wine bottle. Her nimble fingers circled the neck.
“The wine… it’s not like the others you have. It looks cheap.” 

“You really don’t remember?” Cerys didn’t sound hurt, but genuinely surprised. “Remember? We were fifteen an—”

“And that was the brand we shoplifted from the gas station… the first time we drank together.”  The memories hit Tadashi like a brick. He didn’t know how it sunk into obscurity in his mind but now that it was back, it was one of his fondest memories.

“I bought the bottle a few months after we stopped talking. I was saving it for when you came back.”

“When?” He noticed the confidence in her voice.

“You really think you could survive forever without me?” A soft laugh slid from between her lips, filling the room. 

It was the first time he had seen her genuinely laugh in a long time; the sound of her laughter caused him to join in, quickly stopping when he realized what she said.

“Wait. I don’t NEED you to survive.” Tadashi asserted, but there was doubt.

“How have you been doing then?” It was a genuine question with a coating of snarkiness.

“That… is a question for another time.” Tadashi neglected to answer, his hand reaching out to take the bottle and change topics.

His fingers wrapped around the body of the bottle, lifting it beneath his face. Tadashi noticed that Cerys didn’t bother to bring anything to open it with. For a moment, his lips parted to ask, but quickly decided against it—opting to smash the neck of the bottle square on his forehead. Wine shot out almost everywhere, escaping the shattered neck; Tadashi brought it to his open mouth, guzzling every last sip he could get in there. 

Cerys ripped the bottle from his hands with force, “Oi, what the fuck!?” She screamed.
Looking at the couch, he gazed at the mess he had made. The white couch had wine stains all over it that would continue to haunt Cerys long past his departure.

“Tadashi, why?” It wasn’t complete anger anymore, just confusion along with concern.

Only once he had identified the concern section of the emotions swimming around in her eyes did he feel the trickling fluid which had reached the bridge of his nose. He probably should have seen that coming.

“Oh… I should uh, clean that up.” His hand came just under his chin, the blood pooling in his cupped palm. 

“No! You just stay here. Don’t do anything else stupid.” 

Cerys pushed Tadashi back on the couch before he had the chance to fully stand.

Tadashi watched as Cerys turned her back to him and went off to the kitchen. Watching the blood continue to slowly but surely trickle into his palm, he really started to regret what had done. There was no way for this to be normal. The idea of leaving crossed his mind, doing so would be so much easier for him. 

“Alright, dump the blood here,” 

In her left hand was a small drinking glass that she brought under his cupped hand, in the right was a towel. 

“And let me see your forehead.” 

Tilting his hand forward, the blood poured from his palm and filled the cup one-fifth of the way. The palm of his hand was coated in blood, that wasn’t an uncommon sight for him. 

“I’m fine, Cerys. I should get going anyways. I have to go see Jin.” Tadashi’s attempt to stand up was interrupted once again by Cerys’ hand. 

“Yeah, sure, just let me finish plucking glass out of your forehead.” 

With that, she pulled a tiny shard of glass from his forehead.

Tadashi winced but resigned himself to her care. She firmly held his head in place, plucking glass roughly.

“Are you mad at me?”

“Are you a child?”

“I am known for my childlike whims-” Cutting himself off with a sharp gasp of pain when Cerys plucked harder than before.

“If you didn’t want to talk to me, you shouldn’t have come.” The words huffed under her breath

“I wanted to see you.” His voice was drained of its typical snark, just honesty.

“You have photos of me.” She was being brief with him now.

“You’re right.” He withdrew from the conversation, letting her finish. 

It didn’t take much longer for her to finish cleaning him up, the blood stopping by itself. All that was left was a small gash on his forehead which would be covered by his hair anyways. Cerys stood, the glass full of his blood and shards in one hand, a crimson-stained towel in her other. She didn’t utter another word to him as she stood and went right back to the kitchen. 

Without any more thought put into it, Tadashi made his way to her front door. He had to leave before things between them got any worse. He knew Cerys would make sure there was a next time. The door was opened as quietly as he could get it to—not able to get a foot out before she spoke up. 

“No goodbye, Tadashi?” 

It was disappointment, that was all he could hear. 

“I didn’t think it was needed.” He didn’t turn his head to her, already halfway out of the door.

“You never apologized,” she called out to him, sounding closer. “For disappearing on me suddenly, for breaking our promises.” 

Tadashi stopped in his tracks, his grip on the door handle tightening. He could feel the cold, indifferent metal digging into his palm; made all that much clearer by the warmth building under his skin. There were words that refused to leave his lips—sentiments that he knew he shouldn’t express. 

Closing the door behind him, he left her standing there. This was for both of their sakes.

<><>
Lilith stood in the small gap between the sidewalk curb and her car behind her, having been outside of Jin’s house long enough to feel the need to lean against her car and rest her legs. The contemporary-style house that sat across from her came as little surprise—less so considering she knew Jin was a painter now. It was two floors, wider than it was tall, windows were placed all across the first floor, making it easy to see the interior even from outside. Lilith had had far too much time to look at it. The longer she took it in, the less real it all felt. Their entire friend group had broken up in such an explosive manner; she had rightfully assumed they would never see each other again. Tadashi looked about the same, unsurprisingly, like he was always scheming. Jin had been a tall, albeit, lanky boy from what she remembered. It made her wonder what Cerys, Lyric, or Ava might look like. Before that train of thought went any further, she watched Tadashi’s car park right behind hers.

“How did you find this place all on your own?” Tadashi spoke as his car door came open, not having stepped out yet.

“How did you expect me to find it on my own?” Lilith had been waiting to ask him that. She was aware it was her fault. 

As Tadashi stepped out, going to speak before being interrupted by multiple bangs in his trunk. It prompted him to bring a finger out in Lilith’s direction. Heading to the back of the car, he slammed his hand on the trunk hard.

“I’ll give you a treat if you’re patient, I have a reunion to chaperone,” he spoke with a hopeful tone—which did get the banging to quiet down.

“What do you plan on doing with the man after we are done here?” 

Lilith’s attention had been diverted to the trunk which Tadashi was leaning on. 

After a moment of thought, Tadashi spoke up. “That’s a good question… I’ll figure it out later.” 

“I didn’t realize Jin lived in the same neighbourhood as me.” Lilith changed the subject quickly.

“It’s no surprise you haven’t, if you ask me, the guy is a hikikomori.” 

Tadashi pushed off the trunk and towards Jin’s house. `

His eyes wandered down to his own pants, his shoes and the pants from his knee downwards were stained with blood. “I need to stop wearing nice clothes.” 

“Yeah, I agree. Especially whenever you know you’re going to be attacked.” 

Lilith was behind Tadashi, running her hand through her hair to push it out of her face. 

“Anyways… I am surprised that I wasn’t aware he stays on the same street I do. My house is all the way up near the start of the street.” 

The both of them were right at Jin’s door, Tadashi taking the initiative in knocking.

“In my defense,” his head turned to her while they waited. “Usually the blood has a tendency of splattering away from me. I just got a little overzealous today, that’s all.” 

Lilith’s eyes shifted to the door when she heard movement inside, returning to Tadashi after a brief moment. “You think so, huh?” 

Tadashi went to speak once, interrupted by the door opening. Both of them turned their heads to meet Jin, who stood there. There was one issue—at least, the embarrassment on Jin’s face said it was an issue: Jin was only wearing a mint green bath robe. 

Lilith blinked twice at his choice of clothing. A genuine chuckle left her lips that shifted quickly into a grin painted on her face. 

“I see someone has been enjoying their solitude.” She gestured to him. “Been a while, hasn’t it, Jin?” 

Unlike Lilith, Tadashi simply burst into a fit of laughter, laughter so deep that he felt the need to stumble down the steps and catch his breath. “Oh! Give me a second!”

Jin’s eyes focused on the bellowing Tadashi, inhaling hard, he closed his robe tighter. 

“I’ve been trying to enjoy the solitude, it’s a little hard with dumbshit over there.” 

The embarrassment on his face shifted to annoyance.

 “I’m locking him out, come inside, have a drink. Tell me about how you’ve been.” 

“Thank you.” 

She quickly stepped inside, relieved to have a moment away from the chaos. 

The first thing she did upon entering his house was take a close look at his interior. She had gotten a good idea from her view outside, but up close, she was sure of it—his interior was scarily dystopian. His walls were a mix of dark and light grey concrete. At least his furniture was tasteful, but that didn’t surprise her; Jin had always been artistic in one way or another.

“I like the dystopian colour palette you picked for your home, I say it suits you. Mine on the other hand, is primarily dark colours or blacks.” 

Lilith stopped to finally turn and face Jin in the middle of his living room.

Jin had been observing her while she took in his interior. Moving past her, he stopped in the kitchen, right in front of two glasses containing alcohol. “I hoped to find a place that suited my tastes when I came back, I believe I found myself lucky. I was surprised when my paintings sold so well, but it means I can afford a place like this.”

“How long have you been back?” She had been waiting to ask for a bit now. 

“Just three months, not long.”

“And you’ve already found a bunch of buyers?” 

Jin glanced over at her, reaching for the glass which had a little more alcohol in it. “Tadashi knows a lot of people… a lot.”

“Don’t need to tell me about it.” 

A tired breath came from her before she elaborated. 

“I met some of his friends.” 

Jin got back to Lilith with both glasses in each hand, extending the emptier one to her. She acknowledged this with a pursing of her lip, but no words. 

“I am sure you were curious as to why I decided to run off from the friend group after all of us dropped out.” She accepted it, slipping her fingers around the rough edges. The glass had a unique design, small peaks all over the surface. 

“Well, I decided to take on my dream career as a demonologist to study demons and the dark arts in our world and other places. I will say, my studies have been going well ever since I started my career. As for you, I am glad to hear you have been doing fine after some time Jin. You should really show me your paintings, I am rather curious as to how they come out if people are buying them a lot.” 

“I never thought about it to be honest.” Jin muttered through his sip

They stared at each other in a lingering silence. Instead of breaking it vocally, or addressing what Jin had said, they took numerous sips out of their glasses. Their eyes had not left each other—in fact, they were locked on; it was rude to break eye contact… or maybe weak? 

They forgot why they were even doing this and came back into neutral positions.

“I meant about why you left… in cas—”

“Yeah, I know.” She cut him off, crossing her arms. “I wouldn’t think you were too worried about it, but I like to inform those about my unannounced disappearances.” 

Jin nodded his head three times to be sure she got that he got it. 

“I was more focused on my mission, but I am happy it was to pursue your career. You were always passionate about that, it’s an admirable trait.” 

Once again, instead of breaking the awkward silence, they brought their glasses up to their lips and took sips. Their gazes were softer—Lilith’s no longer soured, Jin’s was relieved.

“Has Tadashi mentioned you talk a lo—”

“Yeah.” She cut him off once more. “You both think so.”

“We are brothers, we have to be a little alike.”

Her response was a roll of her eyes. They weren’t biological brothers so it didn’t quite work; that relationship always confused her in fact. The two considered themselves brothers, called each other brothers, acted like brothers—yet were so quick to fall out. While she was on that train of thought, she wondered where Osuke was, neither of them had mentioned him. 

“Why don’t I show you to my office if you want to see paintings. I have done most of my paintings there, and I keep the personal ones in my office too.” Jin nodded her towards the stairs. 

Refocusing on him, she noticed he had already finished his drink. He wasn’t that avid of a drinker in high school—that was more Tadashi or Cerys’ role. She changed her mind, definitely Thomas’ role. 

“By all means, lead the way.” She spoke before taking another sip of the amber liquid, only now did she realize it was whiskey. She had grown used to drinking strong liquor.

Once Jin started up the stairs, Lilith got a chance to give him a better look at him. Eyeing him while talking rude would've been rude, also, he was wearing a bathrobe. Jin was taller than when she last saw him—he had to be about six foot four. More significantly, he had to have eaten a bear while in that forest. Jin was always slim, not all that strong; just from his back, she could tell that was the complete opposite. He looked more built than any man she had seen in person. His body wasn’t like Tadashi’s—Tadashi was fit, but his body was much slimmer than this, aesthetically pleasing but not built for sheer strength. She was more impressed than anything else. It made sense though; he was the most driven man she knew. Naturally, that would translate into exercise. She only wondered what his Manifest could be; she imagined something quite intimidating and painting-related. Everything about him looked to be a rougher Tadashi. The two of them could pass as genuine brothers, if not twins; they wore their hair in a short middle part and had the same paler skin complexion. Her main way of telling them apart was the rougher features on Jin’s face that made Tadashi more pretty than handsome in comparison. There was a look to him. It was hard to discern what it was when she first saw him again, but she got it now. He looked deathly sick. Everything about him appeared beyond healthy, but when she looked at his face, she could see that it had given up before the rest of him. His eyes were as if you captured a feral animal in its last moments—a fading rage, clinging onto flickers of its bestiality.

 “If it worries you so, don’t go on anymore unannounced disappearances. Lest you get kidnapped by one of those demons you study.” 

Jin stopped a few steps short of the top to say this, his head turning to her. There was a smile on his face; she came to the realization that he was waiting for a laugh that wasn’t coming. Eventually, a sigh came from Jin's lips. “I’m surprised Tadashi brought you back of all people… more surprised we found you before we did Osuke.”

“Tadashi was apparently watching me go into the teahouse, Purple Lotus, for quite some time. That’s how he found me. I was surprised he pays that close attention to detail—not to mention, able to point me out of all the people that go there. There is a lot of foot traffic that goes through that place oddly enough.” 

“It makes sense if you think about it, he’s always been deceivingly smart; his gambler perceptions are not to be trifled with.” 

The two of them finally started their move again once Jin turned and continued up the stairs. 

“Yeah, I can tell Tadashi pays close attention when he told me I should stop going to Purple Lotus so much.”  

The two of them reached the top of the stairs, Jin leading her to a pair of doors at the opposite end of the hallway from the stairs. They were the fanciest doors on the second floor from what she saw. When they came open, the two were met with an unfortunate sight.

“Yeahhhhh, Tadashi pays such close attention, he’s so great, keep up the dick riding, it makes me giddy.” Tadashi was waiting for them, a few inches away from the door, snickering like a comfort-stealing goblin. 

“When I closed the door on your face, it wasn’t an invitation to continue finding new ways in… did you break anything?” Jin’s voice lacked hope, more so it lacked surprise. 

Lilith on the other hand was very surprised, jumping back like a startled cat. Her eyes darted around, trying to figure this out. 

“How long was he in there and how did he get in there!?” Her eyebrow shot up. 

Jin’s forehead smacked against the doorframe softly, resting there. He didn’t seem to enjoy her indulging him.

“Welllll… I know at least seven ways into Jin’s house… and I wasn’t standing there all that long, just long enough to hear the praise.” His shoulders came up and down. It was hard to tell if he was being honest—he was good at blurring those lines. “And lastly, I didn’t get to say it before you shut the door on my face… you look good in mint green, Jushi.” Mischief appeared in his eyes when he looked at Jin.

“Right, remind me not to show you where exactly my house is.” Lilith interjected.

“I know where your house is.” He didn’t spare her a glance.

Lilith’s face stood unchanged. She was quickly adjusting to Tadashi; he wasn’t far off from how she remembered him. 

A cough got both Tadashi and Lilith to turn their attention to Jin. “Now that Lilith is here, you’re seeming mighty replaceable.” 

Jin pushed past Tadashi, nudging him out of the way for Lilith’s convenience as well. The two of them joined Tadashi in the room. 

“This is where I spend most of my time—painting and looking into things, one or the other.” 

Jin reached his desk at the far end of the office, turning to rest against it. 

“Lilith, admire, Tadashi, don’t ruin anything this time.”

Lilith did exactly that, looking around the room. The entire right wall of the room was one big window, giving a good view of the main road. The right side of the room is where paintings hung from the wall, gathered along the bottom of it in an orderly fashion as well. Every last painting was breathtaking; his style mainly consisted of a blend of realism and impressionism, though it didn’t stop there. There were dozens of different styles across the various canvases. Jin had always been good at art, she knew that, but this was masterful. It was almost intimidating. 

“This is incredible… I am amazed at the paintings you have, and not surprised these have been selling well. I might have you make some art for me to fill the empty walls at my place, if you are not busy, that is.” 

Lilith’s words got a genuine, though small smile out of Jin. 

“I wouldn’t mind creating art for you if you wished for it, Lilith. Though, since you’re here—and Tadashi is with you—I might as well divulge something I’ve been looking into.” 

He made his way around the desk and took a seat in his chair, booting up the laptop. 

“If you don’t mind giving me a second of your time.” 

“Ah yes, if you don’t mind.” Tadashi mocked Jin, flashing Lilith a grin. He skipped over beside Jin. 

“Blow me, go pay off your debts.” Jin followed the words with a fitting yet inappropriate gesture.

Lilith tried to hide the slight smile Tadashi got from her, masking it with a roll of her eyes. She made her way to the other end of Jin, the two standing behind his chair so they could get a look at his laptop screen.

“Blow me he says…” Tadashi chuckled under his breath, eyes drifting to the screen. 

The two of them were met with what might’ve been the most colourful website they had ever seen. Little squeaky balls and tricycles slowly drifted across the screen, all around the name: ‘JACKSHOW CARNIVAL’ 

It wiped the smile off Tadashi's face. “That is the ugliest fucking website I have ever seen.” 

“Are you asking if we should go to a… carnival?” Lilith had to squint at the screen.

The oversaturated and vibrant colours hurt her eyes. She was sure it was made to attract families and toddlers, but it looked like it was made by one. “That sounds… fun?” She tried to sound happy; the idea of spending time with her old friends wasn’t half bad. She really didn’t like clowns, shuddering at the one in her mind.

“Human trafficking.” Jin responded blandly, focused on the screen.

“H-H.. Bro?” Tadashi was caught off guard—it almost never happened, but what the hell? 

“I beg your pardon?” 

Lilith really expected him to say ‘it would be like old times.’ or anything of the normal variety. 

Their questions prompted Jin to clear this throat, as if he didn’t think he needed to elaborate.

“There have been whispers about a human trafficking ring running across the state. I think the carnival is a front, tonight they’re open, we should go and take a look, you never know.” His gaze ping-ponged between the two, scanning for any sort of familiarity. 

There was zilch between the two of them, but Tadashi spoke up first

“That… sounds fun, I won’t lie. A little bit of a warning would be nice… before y’know, dragging me into investigating a human trafficking ring.” He shrugged.

“I didn’t expect to become an investigator for something like this, but I am not opposed to joining with you to take a look.” Lilith muttered, more focused on the horrid website she was staring at.  

Tadashi looked between the two of them; he couldn’t help but smirk. 

“Holy shit, you two are as nerdy as each other, how do you even hear about this? Go do something with your life—Demon Lady, Painter Boy.” He was almost across the room by the time the two went to look at him; he really shouldn’t be able to move like that. 

“That leaves me a few hours at the casino… I gotta go dunk on some stupid suits.” 

He turned to face them in one smooth motion, still moving to the doors. 

“Just like old times, right? Sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong… you should consider avoiding this one maybe… might just be out of your depth.” Tadashi chuckled. 

Jin ignored Tadashi, not acknowledging what he had just said; it was a skill they learned quickly if they wanted to tolerate the gambling man. “I’ll text you the location.” 

Unlike Jin, Lilith was compelled to answer, never one to be outtalked. “I am doing something with my life, as long as I am not living in a casino… then I am at least functioning in society, and not just wasting my money.” 

She barely got those last words out before he left. Looking down, she adjusted her glove firmly. It took her a moment until she could turn to look at Jin 

“Very well, I am going to head home and wear something more casual before we go. Heels won’t do it when it comes to walking around.”

Chapter Text

She couldn’t help but let out a satisfied hum, sinking her teeth into the cotton candy, the last bit of the sugar cloud dissolving on her tongue. Her feet were tired—naturally; she had been here since the carnival opened. She made sure to play nearly every game on the grounds, and now, all that was left was the main attraction. 

Slipping her left hand into her pocket, she tilted her head back to briefly escape the bright flashing lights. Instead, she stared up at the void sky. She could feel the cool breeze blowing through her hair—and though she wore it in two long pigtails to avoid this—her vision was getting obscured by the thick cloak of navy blue that was her hair. Some hair got into her mouth, making her sputter and spit and tilt her head back down. 

Her free hand came out of its pocket to brush her hair from her face. When she looked up, she was looking right at the Ferris Wheel; the line gathered in front of it was less than five people.

It took little to no time for the line ahead of her to disappear, leaving her in front of the towering Ferris Wheel. The woman was happy she came here, even if it had been impromptu. She lingered there for a few seconds, taking it in: the smell of the sweets, the shouting of little crotch goblins, and the general whimsy in the air; she wouldn’t have it any other way. Maybe no kids would be nice, but unfortunately they would always exist. 

Having handed her tickets to what looked like a bummed-out employee, she made her way to the Ferris Wheel carriage that was awaiting her impatiently. She took small little hops in her steps, she would’ve broke out into skipping if she didn’t end up at the carriage before she could. Getting on the carriage, it was her second time going up. 

Once she was at the very top of the wheel, she stared out at the carnival grounds. They were fairly massive: twenty five different rides and attractions to get distracted with. She had kept count in her mind but she could also count pretty easily from up here. 

Her eyes continued to wander around. The mix of reds, purples, blues, and greens beneath her kept her attention. That attention was broken by the sight of an oddly dressed man. 

Standing at the foot of the Ferris Wheel was a grown man dressed in a completely grey suit. The sight of him grew a smirk on her face. What kind of dork wears a full suit to a carnival? Maybe he was here for a business meeting? But then, he should show up in a proper clown suit; grey was not a carnival colour.

Her final conclusion was that someone does not know how to dress for a carnival—a crime in her book. 

She was just about to look away from the improperly dressed man before he was joined by someone else, a formally dressed woman with raven black hair. She was committing just as egregious a sin with her outfit as the man had been, Worst thing being, she was wearing heels. Now there were two people ruining her otherwise bright and joyful viewing experience.

She had to squint to get a better look at the two, trying to see the faces of two joysuckers. It took a few confused seconds for it to process—there was no way, was there? But once the man started walking away from the Ferris Wheel, she got a better look and confirmed her suspicions.

It was Jin, there was no mistaking his signature middle part. He was looking worse for wear—definitely rougher. That meant that it had to be Lilith with him. No woman would willingly hang out with Jin other than Cerys, Hayami, or Lilith; maybe Victoria too—no, Victoria wouldn’t betray her like that. 

Her grin was getting larger. She had no choice but to see what they were up to. 

Her carriage would eventually reach the bottom. The two of them were a ways ahead of her, so she had to move quickly through the crowd to not lose them. She wasn’t sure what they were doing—they were walking and looking around, no real goal in their direction. 

This was one of the few times she was grateful to be as short as she was. It helped her blend in with people and stay out of sight. She had to keep moving as they seemed to finally agree on somewhere to go. 

She knew for a fact they couldn’t be here for the carnival—they were way too boring for that—why the frick were they here then? Maybe it was to ruin everybody’s fun. 

After walking for long enough, Jin and Lilith stopped at the concession stands. So it was food that was their goal?

She stuck to watching. Lilith sat at one of the tables and Jin went off to get food for the two of them.

this might just be a date? Bleh, ew, no way, not these two, maybe if it was Tadashi he was here with.

That thought made her giggle to herself, shaking her head. Now she really needed to know why they were here—there was no better way than asking them upfront.

With Jin returning to the table, there was no better time. Inhaling deeply, she prepared herself for whatever was coming. 

She took a seat right beside Lilith, elbow on the table, cheek cupped in her palm, gaze fixed on her. 

“Would you look at that—the killjoys are at a carnival. Never thought I’d see the day. How have you two been?” She spoke lightly, smirking; she turned her attention to Jin as well. 

Jin had a blank stare on his face. After a moment his eyes widened. “I’m not surprised to find you here, you always liked hanging out with the other kids.” 

He placed down the items in his hands—a baked potato in a styrofoam container, a blue slushie, and a pretzel dusted with cinnamon flakes.  

“Ava, it’s nice to see you… this is a fitting place to find you.” Lilith’s head nodded in agreement with Jin.

“Well, that makes three of you now—might get us all back together at this rate,” Jin added.

“Three? You’re telling me some of the group is getting back together again?” Ava’s eyebrow rose. She hadn’t heard a peep of this. “Also, that thing looks really sad… like, dude? Baked potatoes at a carnival?” She gestured to his sad little baked potato.

The potato lay slumped in a styrofoam prison, the skin was wrinkled and blotched, undercooked; what was on the inside of the potato was unidentifiable glops of filling. 

“It looked fine.” Jin whispered under his breath, slowly and subtly sliding it to his right and off the table. The baked potato flopped to the ground sadly, becoming food for the ants and flies. 

It took Jin a split second before he was back on topic, eyes leaving his potato. 

“Tadashi found me, Tadashi found Lilith, and we found you. Me and Tadashi are working on finding Osuke—he makes himself scarce.”

“On that note, we’re here to investigate some rumors about the carnival. Only that much, if that redeems our presence in your playground.” Lilith’s hands came out to acquire the slushie and pretzel Jin got for her. 

“Only? The justice we’re going to enact is redeeming enough.” There was a hint of joking in Jin’s voice, but only a hint.

Ava couldn’t help but chuckle a tired chuckle. “Still on about that justice talk, huh? I should’ve figured you two would only come here on some sort of mission.” 

Ava was eyeing Lilith’s slushie, it looked very sweet, very yummy, very takeable. 

Lilith noticed where Ava’s gaze sat, leaning down and drawing in a big long sip—about half of it was gone when her lips departed from the straw. 

“Take it.” She said flatly

“Hehe.” Ava did not hesitate to comply, taking the beautiful sweet blue concoction for herself, resting it right in front of her like it had always belonged to her.  

“Rumours about a carnival in this society do not surprise me in the slightest, but I haven’t heard of them…” She took a moment to think, her lips hovering above the straw. “What is it this time? Human trafficking?” 

“Yeah, that’s it. Me, Lilith, and Tadashi agreed to come check it out. As you can see—no Tadashi—so me and Lilith were going to check it out alone. But if you’re here, you might as well join us… for old times.” Jin was staring intently at her, expecting agreement.

Ava took one continuous sip as Jin prattled on. Once he suggested her joining, she sipped much slower. Once the slushie could no longer save her, completely sipped away, she spoke up. 

“I was joking...” 

“Your assistance would be appreciated. Nothing too bad will happen—at least that is the hope.” 

Ava sighed, bringing both palms to her face, she buried herself in them. They would drag down her face once she was ready to answer them. 

“I guess I’ll join in—why not, right?” 

Any further conversation that would follow was interrupted by four sudden and loud pops coming from the direction of the main tent; it was a massive cacophony of different high-pitched whirrs and pops; they witnessed a blend of red, blue, white, and yellow—the night sky lit up if even just for a few fleeting seconds. 

Ava wished it lasted a little longer, she was smiling like a little kid. The crushing and unfortunate reality came back with a dry and soft voice.

“Well then, join in you will—we have a show to attend.” Jin smiled as he stood.

“It’s nice to have you with us, Ava.” Lilith tried to alleviate, she could see the displeased scrunching on Ava’s face.

“Ohhhh boy, I sure can’t wait—this is so exciting,” she retorted sarcastically, stretching her limbs.

“I’m very excited.” Jin seemed dead serious, adjusting his suit blazer and tie.

“Killjoy,” she whispered.

<><>

Inside of the large red-and-white striped circus tent was a deceivingly small show interior which was like a dome. Most of the tent had to be made up of a backstage. Despite the tent’s massive size, the circular stage that sat in the middle of this dome could only fit ten people at most, and it was raised just three feet off the ground. Coloured lights hung from the ceiling, supported by shining metal trusses; they lit up the entire tent in this vibrant blue at the top/middle and a warm white near the seats at the edge. 

The seats looked comfortable at the very least, cushioned chairs draped in red cloth. The red cloth was out of place, not belonging to the chairs underneath them, they had to have been put over afterwards. All in all, there was one conclusion that came to all of their minds: this place looked expensively cheap.

Jin stopped near the entrance of the tent, scanning the room until he looked satisfied. 

“Front row seats, don’tttt mind if I do.” Ava moved past both Lilith and Jin, quickly noticing that even if the tent was packed with people of all ages, there was nearly no one sitting in the front row.

“We can get a good view of the people running the show.” Jin followed Ava, turning to see the stalling Lilith. He gestured to the seats they were going to, puzzled by her hesitance.

Lilith let a deep and dramatic sigh leave her, crossing her arms. She kept looking at the back of the tent to the furthest seats from the stage, which were completely packed. She dragged her feet all the way until she was beside Jin, crossing her legs as she sat.

Jin waited patiently for them to sit down, in between the two. Only now did he decide to divulge key information, 

“The performance is fairly controversial, I should add. Things get bloody and hot—you might want to cover your face when they bring out the burning man.” never once sparing a glance, as if what he said was nothing. 

A smile would grow on Ava’s face again. It was not joy. 

It was realization. 

Realization why no one sat up front. 

Realization that Jin didn’t warn them on purpose. 

“And… you didn’t say beforehand becauseeeee?” 

“I forgot.” Jin spoke softly, unconcerned. 

“I seriously doubt that, but whatever man. If I get burned, I’m deadlegging you at some point—you’ll never know when.” Ava grumbled, her excitement was rapidly decreasing.

“If I get blood on this coat, I am going to be upset.” Lilith muttered to herself. 

With that, she made the bright decision to slip off her black coat. She would’ve rather worn it—especially in this cold weather. Only left in her light grey button-up shirt, she hung her coat on the chair. 

“And when aren’t you upset?” She looked past Jin and at Lilith, taking frustration out on her.

Lilith opened her mouth to say something, her eyes glancing over Ava’s outfit. Ava had on a crop top that cut off seven inches above her red plaid skirt which was held by a fabric belt—only shielded from the cold by her denim jacket. Lilith was compelled to make a comment, it was taking everything in her not to say something. In the end, she focused on the investigation, turning her head away from Ava and to the stage. 

“I am not always upset, Ava.” She couldn’t help herself—whispering the words; she just had to talk. 

Without further ado, all the lights in the show dome shut off. It left them in dark silence. That was, until three lights above the stage would turn on simultaneously, shining down on the velvet curtains north of the stage. The lights sat still on the curtains, the silence lingering amongst the audience—they were all waiting for something. 

Their attention was drawn to a clicking sound coming from behind the curtains, the sound of heels against the cement floor of the show dome. They drew closer until the source came out from behind the curtains. 

Adorned in a showgirl outfit that did not belong in the current time period came a fair-skinned woman, dark hair cascading down her shoulders like a veil. She had a sort of messy organization about her—her hair wild, yet flowing down her head in a way that accentuated every attractive feature she had. She had a lot of attractive features. She was beautiful—a beauty that made her scarred face more jarring. 

Going from a few inches beneath her right eye to the other and crossing the bridge of her nose was a thick scar. It didn’t stop there—one went from the middle of her forehead down to her right high cheekbone. The age of the scars showed, sunk into her skin. Both had to have been present for more than a few years. 

It did not show on her face, which remained neutral, but the outfit she wore looked incredibly uncomfortable: a red and black corset top, feathers waterfalling out of the bottom, dragging behind her once she moved away from the curtains and towards the stage. The spotlight that had once been on the curtains was following her closely. 

Lilith took a moment to glance at the two who sat beside her—Jin was watching with cold indifference, Ava seemed to fixate on the woman, scanning her over.

The showgirl had stepped up onto the stage by the time Lilith looked back. She just stood there in silence. There was a microphone in her hand, her face no longer straight, instead a joyless smile was presented. It was only five or so seconds before she raised it to her lips.

“Welcome to the Jackshow Carnival!” There was an attempt to sound excited but it didn’t come through. 

“And now, welcome to the stage—The one and only, oozing elegance, master of eloquence, magnificent, and dashing: the Jack Trades.” She stepped to the edge of the stage.

All the light flashed back on, a mix of red and blue focused in on the stage. The middle of the stage sunk, creating a hole. Speedily, a man would come flying out of the hole, sent high into the air before landing right on his feet cleanly. He stood upright, revealing the Cheshire cat grin plastered on him. 

The first thing they’d noticed was how tall he was—paired with his lanky frame, there was something eerie about his appearance: the sharp curves of his jaw, his narrow eyes, irises that could be mistaken for light grey at a glance, and a bottom lip that sat out a bit more than his top lip. His face was painted a blank white, the natural skin on his neck was hardly any darker. His shoulder-length hair was in a tousled side part; the colour was this pretty pink—a light pink, like cotton candy. He wore a baby blue ruffled shirt underneath his black vest, which sported a brown diamond pattern all along the front, all tied together by a snug black bowtie. 

The lanky man’s arms shot out to the side, holding them there; the crowd applauded as soon as he had.

This had to be Jack. The introduction was definitely a help, but it was more than that. He had this presence about him, it was commanding. Every little movement he made and look he gave was suave. 

“Folks, Folkesses—let’s not waste any time now, you came to be entertained!? Well you will be.” 

With that, he bounced his cane off the ground butt-first, producing a loud strike that echoed through the tent. Jack caught it by the middle of its wooden shaft, pointing it directly at the velvet curtains.

Cane wouldn’t be the appropriate term, it was a marotte with an extended shaft, granting it the functionality of a cane. The palm-sized head carved at the top was crudely sculpted from ivory—a desecration of such a fine and rare material. As poorly as it was crafted, it resembled a long-haired man. The features, though rough, wanted to appear soft.

“WHEEL HIM OUT, BOYS!” Jack said with every bit the excitement of seven toddlers loaded up on cocaine. 

With that signal, two men would come out from behind the curtains—one guiding a wheelchair forward, the other bound by his wrists and ankles to it, a bag over his head. The bound man thrashed and fought in the chair. He was unable to do anything before he was wheeled to the middle of the stage, right beside Jack. 

The showgirl from earlier had stepped down, waiting by the stage.

Jin had come with an idea of what they were in store for; somehow, part of this still shocked him. There were kids in this tent, that couldn’t be the case if he was right about what was coming. It took force to break his attention away from his thoughts, looking to the two on either side of him. Lilith was in just as much shock; Ava was wearing a fake smile, sunk in her chair.

“So what do you think, friend?” Ava whispered at Jin.

“Kids watch this?” was his only response.

“The world has just gotten more desensitized since you left… exactly what you didn’t want, huh?” Lilith added quietly, shifting in her seat.

“I present to you, ladies and gentleman, BURNING BOY!” he shouted, just as excited.

Without a second wasted, he had spun on his heel and smashed the marotte into the side of the man’s head. 

“Watch out! If you’re allergic to heat, you might want to skedaddle out of the hot spot.” 

“This is horrible.” Lilith murmured.

Ava winced at the strike, frowning. “Very horrible.” 

Jack had not stopped striking the man—CRACK after CRACK, like he was trying to take his head off. Not a single strike lacked all his strength; a mask of blood was seeping from the cloth bag.

“Don’t worry folks, he likes this, trust me.” His voice was barely audible beneath the sound of screaming.

Lilith closed her eyes, her body felt hot. She brought her hand up to fan herself, she was thinking it might be the long sleeves she wore—but it was the middle of winter. And there was a… sizzling?

She could swear she heard sizzling. 

Lilith’s eyes came back open. When they did, there were now an abundance of small circular burn marks on the man’s arms.. “Do you hear that?”

“I can’t tell if he’s about to be set on fire or explode.” Ava whispered back.

Watching the scene in front of them, the sweat dripping down Jack’s face became evident in numbers—a ridiculous amount running from his forehead and down his painted face. His makeup was unphased by them. It was like he didn’t even notice, he wasn’t giving a reaction to it—instead, he was grinning the same, if not wider. Whipping the marotte upwards, a crunch came from under the bag. 

Lilith fanned herself quicker. The air around her was getting rapidly hotter; she could really feel it now—it was undeniable.

“Really wish we didn’t pick the front row right about now.” Ava was frowning more, visibly upset. 

Jack finally acknowledged the audience, looking around the show dome. “If you’ve seen it before, then prepare for it once again; if you’re new here, then get ready for the sight of a lifetime.”

One hand on the shaft, the other grasping the ivory head, Jack pressed a finger into the top of the head and tugged, sliding a long blade out of the shaft. It was just as dramatic as him, glimmering under the red and blue lights of the room. Jack slashed the blade downwards, splitting the skin and flesh of the bound man’s torso. Blood spurted from the newly opened wound, staining Jack’s clothes. That didn’t put a stop to it—Jack repeated the action again and again, slicing six more times before he sheathed the blade once more. 

“And that’s my cue to get off stage.” It took one step forward for his long legs to get him off stage.

A few seconds after the wounds were made, they cauterized. There was visible smoke rising from his body, the sizzling growing louder. The heat got worse and worse, the ropes that tied his ankles and wrists to the chair lit aflame. The same thing happened with the bag over his head and the shirt he wore, the cloth being reduced to ash in seconds. The chair itself even began to melt, but the progress of that would slow once he stood up. Without the bag on his face, he was able to look around at the audience. He was bloodied and beaten, nose broken and leaking.   

Lilith had resorted to fanning herself with both hands, as well as rolling up her sleeves. She didn’t care about people seeing the scars on her forearms now—anything was worth some relief from this nearly intolerable heat. 

“For the investigation… for the investigation…” she huffed. 

“I fucking hate this.” Seeing Lilith doing it, Ava fanned herself as well. Her eyes were shut closed to avoid getting sweat in them, the heat alone made them hard to open. She could feel her eyes drying up. Ava was able to sneak a glance at Jin.

Jin was sweating just as bad as them, his blazer off and sleeves rolled up. Unlike them, he was acting unphased, skin slick with sweat yet his face was blank. She knew Jin had to be suffering like them. 

She couldn’t believe this dork. 

The Burning Boy gave the audience a bloodied smile, spinning in a circle to show himself off. The wheelchair had completely melted by now. The only thing unaffected was the stage beneath him and his pants. He opened his mouth to speak, and what came out was French—a language that none of them understood well enough to catch what he said. 

Ava couldn’t pay attention to the man at the moment, too concerned with how exhausted she felt. Her energy had been completely drained; she damn near sweated out every bit of sugar she had eaten recently. Patting down her pockets gave no respite as they were empty—the worst time for that to happen.

“Do you guys have anything sugary to eat?” Ava forced a smile at the two of them.

Lilith was quick to respond to the question, reaching back for her purse. It took a moment of fishing, but she eventually held out a chocolate bar which flopped to the side pathetically. “Will chocolate milk work?”  

She snatched it quickly, ripping it open. Ava shoved the entire thing in her mouth, working the chocolate out of the wrapper. 

Now that she had quieted Ava, she could look back at the scene. It was still extremely hot; she went right back to fanning herself. “Can someone turn on a fan or something?” she said out loud for everyone to hear, wanting to speak her mind. 

Jack’s head snapped over to Lilith, his smile somehow growing more. He trotted over, an unbelievable amount of joy exuding from him—the same could not be said about the showgirl that followed—she took a deep breath as they stopped in front of the three.

“Turn on a fan, you say?” He leaned forward until they were eye level. It was hard to ignore him when he was this close. “Now that is something that I can do.” 

Lilith looked up at him, her gaze following down until their faces were mere inches away. She could make out his makeup better like this. Accompanying the white face paint was a fiery orange diamond over his right eye, and two light pink streaks a few inches above and below his left eye, neither streak connected.  

Standing back upright, one of his hands came to his face, resting across his lower jaw. Sliding his black-gloved hand across the lower region of his face—where there was once nothing on his lips, now appeared a painted smile. It wasn’t paint. It dripped down from his lips and cheeks, down to his chin and jaw. It had the consistency of blood—the colour too; Lilith was hoping that wasn’t what it was. 

“The lady wants a fan.” His eyes drifted away from Lilith and out to the audience, scanning until he found what he was looking for.

From the side of his face and outwards, Jack moved his hand until he was pointing at an audience member two rows behind Lilith. His smile had gone from toothy to closed, still present, but closed; the ‘paint’ had been leaking into his mouth until he closed it. He gestured the audience member over to them, his eyes never leaving him. 

Once he was within grabbing distance, Jack grasped his shoulder, tugging him until they were side by side.

“Be a good fan…” Jack turned his head, whispering in his ear. 

“Fan the poor lady.”

The air grew heavy the moment he whispered. The weight vanished as soon as he finished.

Before any of them could guess what he had done, it became disturbingly clear.

The man dropped to his knees and began fanning his hands at Lilith—just as she had asked. His eyes didn’t cooperate with his body, darting between Jack and Lilith rapidly. 

“Are you pleased, Ms….?” he trailed off, waiting for her to finish.

“Lilith…” she whispered, more focused on the man in front of her. “I am pleased.” She gave him a weak thumbs up, wanting nothing more than for this to end. She did not like the attention.

Jack didn’t budge a muscle, not even a twitch of his face; he was staring into the depths of Lilith’s soul, the gaze heavy. The weight was only released once two hands grasped his shoulders gently—the showgirl bringing herself up to whisper something in his ear. 

“If you insist… dear.” his voice begrudged, yet smiling still.

The ‘paint’ on his lips disappeared, along with any traces of it; the lower region of his face once more a simple blank white. 

The audience member that had once been fanning scrambled onto his feet, eyes wide. Turning his head to look over at Jack—he was only waved back to his seat; it was as if nothing happened, the man walked away. 

“It’s all part of the show, dear. Don’t concern yourself.” Giving Lilith a wink, he spun on his heels. “AND THE SHOW MUST CONTINUE!” More like nine toddlers this time.

Jack stopped where he had been standing before he originally got off the stage. “Time up, boy. You did good.” He gently nudged Burning Boy off the stage with the butt of his marotte. 

“Controversial… that was an understatement on my part, wasn’t it?” Jin looked at either of the two beside him.

Ava wiped her forehead and nodded at him; thankfully the heat had died down over time, now just warm rather than burning. There was nothing more she would like than to leave; it was taking everything she had not to.

“This is a show for the people,” Jack started up once again. The platform beneath him was rotating; it made him spin very slowly as he spoke. “So, tell me who’s up next? We have two contenders.” 

He waited for himself to complete a full rotation, facing where he started. “WE CAN START WITH THE MOST BEAUTIFUL MAN ALIVE, JUDE BO!” Jack ran his hand down his face, sucking in his cheeks and pushing out his lips—never looking more handsome. 

“Orrrrr…” He reached into the pocket of his pants, acquiring a pair of dollar store prop glasses—plastic had never looked so cheap before. He placed the glasses on, then ran a hand through his hair, slicking it back. “The Mind Theer, Tharkis Malikian” he said with a put on lisp. 

He ripped the glasses off and threw them to the audience in one motion, listening to their cheers; it was unclear just who they were voting for, it was mixed. 

“AND THE PEOPLE DECIDEEEEE…” Jack clapped his hands together hard above his head, lowering them down slowly until they were pointing to the curtains. “BOTH!?!?!”

The news caused the audience to get louder; they all seemed very excited about this. If nothing else, Jack got this crowd going like a room full of seagulls and bread. 

“LIGHTEN UP, EVERYONE WINS HERE!” he shouted as he stepped off the stage to make room for the middle of the stage to sink in—he was still pointing at the curtains. 

A few seconds later, the portion that had sunk in came back up. Four standing mirrors, all facing each other in a square, came up—Along with a blonde-haired man standing in the middle of them. There was no doubt he was Jude—blue eyes and a chiseled frame, it was like looking at a statue, who had decidedly not come through the curtains Jack was still pointing at. 

His hands were resting on his chest; it did not take them long to begin caressing down his own body. One hand moved down his thigh while the other slid up to his neck—it was worship in his movements, a cherishment.

“So we have someone who is going to admire themselves and we have to watch?” Lilith whispered.

Jude had made his way in front of one of the four mirrors. At first, it seemed like he was intending to watch himself, but that changed once his reflection reached out of the mirror. Starting with a hand, it reached for Jude until it fell out of the mirror.

Jude’s reflections would collapse out of all four mirrors; they crawled towards him—their admiration directed solely at Jude prime. 

His head tilted back, staring up, his arms coming out slightly. He basked in the red and blue lights. The reflections caught up with him, grabbing at his pants.

“What the…” Jin trailed off, he went from watching closely to hardly watching.

“Hell.” Lilith finished for him, feeling about the same way.

Ava turned her gaze from the man and to the entrance, eyes stuck on it. She could leave. Did she care if Jin got mad? Jin was a prick. She took one quick glance at him, deciding to stay just a little longer. The mission did mean something to her, she needed it to. 

The reflections would continue to grab at him, crawling up until they were on their knees. They pressed against his torso and sides, their hands snaking up his body; Jude seemed to love this self-indulgent performance, if it could be called a performance at all.

It was one that was cut short when the stage started to lower back down. Jude opened his eyes and looked at Jack, seeming offended.

“That was a performance..?” Lilith input loudly. 

It wasn’t a snap motion this time—it was slow. Jack’s head pointed right at Lilith, a smile of unbelievable proportions on him—as if he was seeing a diamond wrapped in gold there for the taking.

After whispering to the showgirl beside him, he approached Lilith once more. Every step he took was a bounce used for dramatic effect, his strides got wider. Instead of leaning this time, he crouched down to a mutual eye level. He was swaying on his knees faintly, joyfully. 

Lilith adjusted the cuffs of her shirt awkwardly, biting her tongue before speaking. 

“Uhm… I apologize for interrupting your… show?” 

“I just love opinionated people. Opinions keep the world turning. You want to share those opinions?” 

Not getting a chance to respond, Jack clapped his hands very hard, producing a loud slap that kept her quiet. Jack moved his hands to gesture to the curtains.

This time someone actually came through the curtains—It was an older-looking gentleman. At least, older than the rest of the performers they had seen so far. Wearing glasses and a formal attire, he didn’t look very carnival-like; Ava was already disapproving. The gentleman would snap his fingers, and like that, the lights would switch to a warm white, dimming.

“Come on, you're going to join the performance.” Jack didn’t give her time to think, standing and spreading his arms out wide. “WE HAVE A VOLUNTEER!” 

“I’d rather not…” she spoke quietly, looking over at her two friends for support.

Ava shrugged. 

Jin was glaring at Lilith. It was a serious look. 

“Go up there.” he spoke, hushed and direct. 

“Oh, Jack, you’re scaring the poor girl. Just leave it be.” A hand came to Jack’s arm, turning him away from them a bit. 

“It’s not worth the trouble.” The showgirl spoke in an exhausted manner. 

“But it is, isn’t it?” His body remained as it was, but he was looking at Lilith. “Come on, you’ll love it, dear.” 

As much as Lilith wanted to say no, Jin’s glare got to her; she could see this mattered to him. She nodded her head at Jack confidently. 

“I suppose I’ll give it a go.” She pulled her sleeves back down before making her way onto stage.

The man on stage observed her closely once she stepped up. It felt more like he was looking through her than at her. Could he see the demons crawling under her skin? It made her body shiver independently of her. 

“You picked a good one, Jack.” he spoke in a calm and concise manner.

He gestured to the floor in front of him. “Take a seat, Lilith. Make yourself comfortable—it makes this a lot easier.” A seat appeared from thin air behind him, allowing him to sit and stare at her. 

She tensed at the sound of her name from his lips. There was no way he heard her say it. How on earth did he know her name? She was already not a fan—this was a terrible idea. This is what she got for putting her trust in Jin. Regardless, she committed herself to it, sitting down where he gestured. 

“You can call me Sarkis, I’ve never liked the name Mind Seer too much; it’s pervasive, isn’t it?” 

Lilith just nodded, glancing over at Jin to see what he was getting out of this. He was definitely getting something, his eyes were glued to Sarkis, watching him like prey; the flickers in his eyes were turning to a fire.

“Tell me, Lilith—what inspired your passion for the dark arts?” 

Lilith flinched, as if that brought her pain. He shouldn’t know that about her. He shouldn’t know her name either. How did he know anything about her? She felt her stomach turning in circled, giving him silence for a few seconds.

“I, uhm… decided to get into the dark arts when I was in a school club for the paranormal… that got me into demonology, I guess.”  

“Such passion at an early age. Tell me, Lilith, is your Manifest a source of pride or shame?” 

“Why are you asking me this?”

“That reaction would say it is shame.”

“It’s not a shame—I just don’t know how you’re doing this” 

“So you’ll engage with demons, but be stunted by something like this?” 

“I didn’t agree to being read. And just what are you seeing in there?”

“Are you uncomfortable right now, Lilith?”

“Yes.” 

Sarkis uncrossed his legs and stood up; the chair that was once underneath him disappeared. “Well then, never my intention.” He adjusted his glasses with his finger. 

Lilith stared up at him, turning her gaze over to Jack quickly, looking for any sort of relief. “Can I go?” 

Jack was staring back at her. There was an amount of amusement on his face that he shouldn’t have gotten from that interaction. “Of course, dear. I hope we didn’t jar you. All in good fun—but the show must go on.” 

Stepping up onto the stage, and past the retreating Lilith, he stopped in the middle; the showgirl had followed him up this time. Jack bounced his marotte off the ground butt-first, catching it in the air excitedly. He handed it off to a stage assistant that he whispered something to before she left. 

Being left on the stage with the showgirl, he turned his body to face her. “Last performance, I know this one is your favourite.” 

This got a groan from her, with a side of her rolling her eyes.

All but three lights shut off, they lit the entirety of the stage. The crowd was left in darkness once again. 

“We can deal with it after, hm? Can’t interrupt the show, now can we?” 

Lilith got back to her seat and lowered her head.

“You did a good job. Thank you, Lilith,” Jin whispered to her.

“Right… right,” she murmured back. 

Looking back at the stage, they caught the beginning of the performance by the two before it was too late. Music that was slow yet bouncy strummed through the dome. It was beginning to pick up. 

Jack grabbed a hand that had been running along his chest, pulling the woman closer to him, he then stepped back. Their faces were polar opposites—in contrast to Jack’s amusement, the showgirl was frowning. They moved in opposite directions, the choreography was stumbly and rough. Where Jack pulled and turned, the woman in dance with him would resist. It wasn’t working until it started to, a slow melt into unison with each other until there wasn’t a missed step. There was a clear familiarity in the way they met eyes every once in a while, in how they slid their bodies against each other in unison when agreed, in the way he grabbed her and ripped her around like she weighed nothing, and how she let him, never once losing her balance. Their movements picked up with the song. No longer just ripping her around, he was shoving and grabbing at her clothes and hair. She pushed into his cruelties, wincing and biting her lip but never fighting back. 

The music slowed down with their movements. Jack’s cruel behavior toward her tamed, holding her closer instead, he didn’t let go until they circled all of the stage. Their steps coordinated until they were back in the middle. stopping completely the moment the music did. 

The lights flicked back on not a minute later, and the tent was empty—save for the three—along with Jude, Sarkis, Burning Boy, and three others that surrounded the three. 

“Oh great.” Lilith sighed

Jin leaned back in his seat and ran his hand down his face.. “Maybe they wanna recruit us?” 

“You think so?” Lilith narrowed her eyes at Jin, unamused.

Ava blinked, she deserved this for being an idiot. “Yeah, definitely the last time I ever join you killjoys at some place fun..” 

Jack placed his hand on the woman's chest and wiped his gloved hands off on her before he pushed her away. Hopping off the stage, he matched towards the three. “This is so very interesting—I caught three little weasels in my home.” 

The Burning Boy would speak in French again, gesturing to the three.

“No one understands you like that, Marcel. Speak English.” Jude commented, much to everybody’s displeasure. They all glanced at him with disgust, 

“WHAT!? Alicia says worse shit all the time.” 

“We don’t mind racism, we just don’t like you.” Jack spoke up. 

“Yes, you suck a lot.” Marcel added.

“Your performance was disappointing.” Even the showgirl joined in.

“I don’t need to take this shit from you guys. I can leave.” Jude furrowed his brows, clearly pissed.

“Can you really? Please?” Jack replied in a snap.

Lilith watched them interact; she was less worried, more confused upon seeing this. “I was not expecting this outcome..” She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes.

“Except you spoke up about two… three times.” Ava sighed.

“Not intentional,” she grumbled, crossing her arms.

“You know she can’t help herself.” Jin patted Lilith’s arm. 

Jack took a second to get a proper look at the three before smirking. “I assure you it’s all business, truly—your friend's big mouth has nothing to do with this.” Jack’s hands locked together behind his back. “No, no, it has much more to do with what my friend saw in your mind” He was speaking to Lilith. 

“Which happened because she opened her big mouth,” Ava whispered to herself, hating she was right.

“Human trafficking? Me? I would never.” Unlocking his hands from behind his back, he crossed them over his heart, an open-mouth frown parting his lips. “The accusation alone hurts.” 

“And just how did you empty the tent for this? Was everyone there on your payroll? Did you use a Manifest?” Ava felt compelled to ask. 

“Latter. It’s the latter, obviously. How sad would it be if I paid people to watch me?” Jack shook his head, closing his eyes and continuing to shake his head for an extended amount of time. 

“Is there any chance you take these two and leave me… I’m not even supposed to be here.” Ava figured she knew the answer, but she kept hope.

“Wow, what a betrayal. It must really hurt to carry around all that negativity. I mean look at you—you look awful, it’s the negativity.” He turned his attention to Jin. “And you dress awfully for a carnival. I find your outfit disagreeable, it stained my show.” 

Jin looked left and right, trying to deduce why he got insulted for no reason.

“But that just leaves the question of what to do here…” Jack looked at the showgirl, who was standing by his side. “Any ideas, my dear Ianira?” 

“You’re the evil genius. Do what you’re supposed to.” Ianira didn’t seem interested. 

Ava turned her attention over to Jin and Lilith, hoping they had something in mind—anything in mind. 

Jin put his hands up halfway. “We concede." 

God dammit.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get a chance to investigate whatever you want up close and personal.” He looked over at Marcel and Jude. “Take them backstage and tie them up. We’ll deal with this after closing. We must let the show go on for now.” 

<><>

The cold concrete ground dug into her ass, though not as badly as the ropes binding her wrists to some sort of metal. She had a bag on her head, leaving her to her thoughts. She was having a lot of thoughts at the moment, mainly about how she needed to learn to keep her mouth shut. All she could do was curse herself for opening her mouth. She wasn’t sure what pissed her off more—the idea of dying to this, or the idea of Tadashi’s amusement at her dying to this. She wanted to try escaping, but the whistling coming from a few feet in front of them meant they were being watched.

“Well, gentleman—and ladies—I have kept you waiting, but here I am.” All she could do was listen to that draining voice. The voice wasn’t annoying as much as just grating, especially in the situation they were in. 

He removed the bags from their heads, allowing them to see. “You wanted to see what was behind the scene? A lot of dust, as of now.” Jack took a step back. “Anything to say for yourselves?” 

Lilith had to readjust to the sudden light, it blinded her. She had to squint her eyes. “What are you going to do with us?”

“I haven’t decided yet. I have two options: I can kill you all here and be done with it, or I can use you for profit… which sounds more ideal. For me, not you.” As Lilith’s eyes adjusted, she could see him crouching in front of her, his face inches away. “Oh, and call me Ezra—forget the name Jack. That’s a show name… that I don’t like using unless I need to.” His voice shifted, less emphasized—more sharp. 

“Right, Ezra…” She leaned away from him, her face scrunching uncomfortably. “Profit would seriously help you raise revenue for your little carnival. Perhaps it will fund some better performances.” 

Ava’s head snapped over at Lilith “Okay, I get that you’re upset and depressed all the time, but if you really want to die, just ask him to kill you.” 

“Pshhh… as if I would kill her over such a petty comment.” Ezra stood up, glancing at Marcel then back at Lilith. “Actually, I might just do that.” 

As annoyed as Ava was at her ‘friends’, she didn’t want either dead. “So… the burning guy isn’t someone you tortured on stage? I mean, he looked like he didn’t want to be there.” Ava got his attention, shrugging her shoulders a tiny bit.

“No, of course not. Marcel’s Manifest is activated by the pain. But he is only human—he reacts naturally to pain.” He reached his hand out and pet Marcel’s head from out of range, gently rubbing the air in Marcel’s direction. 

“Right… that sounds fun.” She was regretting this more every second she was here. Ava was really banking on the idea that they had a way out of this. 

All of them could hear Ianira call for Ezra loudly from another room, his eyebrows furrowing. He looked like a kid that was about to get into trouble. “I should move you guys quickly.” He was beginning to turn around.

“Then hurry up and move us, cunt.” Jin said pretty loudly, having been completely quiet until now. 

“Bro..” Ava hung her head. Why were they so intent on killing her with them?

Ezra stopped in his tracks, cranking his neck back in Jin’s direction. Staring right at him, the smile that had always been there was gone. Not a single noise came from him, staring at Jin wordlessly for a few seconds—until he took a breath in. It was a shaky breath. Then he burst out into uncontrollable laughter, continuing to walk away. His laughter could be heard even once he left—he just kept going. 

Marcel stood up and approached the group of them. “You’ll wish that Ezra killed you when you see what your life will become.”

Chapter Text

“Venti Java Chip Frappuccino, two scoops berries, double blended with whipped cream for Lyric.” 

“Mine… don’t mind if I dooo,” he called from the crowd 

Slipping through the crowd smoothly, Lyric made his way to the counter. The first thing he decided to do was take a sip of the customized drink, smacking his lips a few times—once he verified it was to his liking, he gave the barista a smile.

“Thank you, I can tell you made this with love.” He winked at her, hoping to come off as friendly.  

The barista stared at him wordlessly for a moment, her eyes squinting a bit. “...Thank you?” 

“Yeah.” 

Lyric turned and left the Starbucks without so much as another word. He pressed his book into his chest hard, grumbling something or the other—he wasn’t sure what he was saying, but it was something not happy. 

He looked around himself—Rosewood Mall, it was the biggest mall they had in this city, yet somehow he still couldn’t figure out what to do here; it didn’t help that he rarely ever came.

That started his journey along the first floor of the mall, exploring everything he hadn’t seen before—hell, even the things he had seen before. Lyric was looking for anything entertaining: something to buy, someone to talk to, maybe even someone to argue with at this point. Anything had to be better than this boredom he felt, even the inferior mall Barnes & Noble. He worked at the one in the plaza, it was much cozier.

“Come on… at least someone has to be here,” he muttered once he had looked everywhere.

Like that, his venture to the second floor began. He started to feel like Christopher Columbus, he didn’t think that was someone he wanted to feel like. 

Just like the first floor, there was nothing that brought Lyric any sort of joy—or so he thought. His light at the end of the tunnel stood at the back of the second floor: a Build-A-Bear.

He thought to himself—something he did a lot of—what the others were up to. No, he didn’t really care to think about that. Lyric knew what he was really thinking about: What was Osuke up to? He could check. He would sometimes check his socials, but he never interacted with him. He couldn’t bring himself to—not after what happened between all of them. It would be awkward, he was different since last time. If Osuke wanted to reconnect, they would’ve reconnected by now. There was no way Osuke disliked him… there was no way. 

Fuck Tadashi and Jin. Tadashi was always a brash asshole, Jin was worried more about his mission than them—more than he ever cared about Lyric. Lyric was still sour over Jin. Maybe it was something he would never really get over. There was no way the group could reconnect, not when they were who they were.

He pushed all of that out of his mind. The longer he thought about it, the more agitated got.

Walking inside the Build-A-Bear, he came to a quick consensus with himself that he had absolutely no idea what he was doing in here. He had never been, and had no idea how to do this. He  let himself guess. 

It took an embarrassing amount of time, but Lyric ended up in front of the unstuffed animals—looking over all of them. One caught his eyes like none of the others could. Reaching his hand out to it, he pulled it right off the shelf—it was an all-white cat, with a single black spot on its cheek and its black tail.  

Taking it right to the stuffing machine, he wasn’t sure what he was in store for. Handing it off to the employee, he picked a scent (pumpkin spice) and a heart along with it. He waited with a big smile on his face.

He watched as they pole-fucked his cat and stuffed it until it was full. 

He was no longer smiling. 

He handed the heart to the employee with little enthusiasm, allowing them to sew it into his poor cat.

When the worker was done with his cat, he would take it.

He already had a name in mind for it: ‘Lyric Jr.’ 

Lyric took it to the leashes. He wanted to get a leash for it. He also saw one that just tickled his fancy; it was a blue leash with yellow markings—it was reminiscent of his book’s appearance.

Next were the clothes for Lyric Jr., deciding on giving him flip flops and sunglasses; he wanted him to be as cool as his father was—and Lyric was confident he was a pretty cool dude. 

All that was left for him was to officiate Lyric Jr.’s name and then pay for the whole procedure. After which, he finally left the store, walking Lyric Jr. on his leash. He dragged the stuffed animal behind him like it was the real deal.

Stopping outside of the store, he took another look around. He was starting to have fun by himself—now he just had to find something else to do with Lyric Jr. 

Looking at his book in one hand, then the frappuccino he kept in the same hand as the leash, he brought it to his lips and took a long sip from it. He had been taking small sips before, but with the goal of finding fun clouding his mind, he let his beverage get warm. 

Lyric nearly choked on the drink and sputtered when an arm came around him; it wasn’t hard to shake his sort of smaller frame. 

“Is that who I think it is?” a voice rasped in his ear. "It's my favourite effeminate man.”

It was hard to mistake the voice—no one quite sounded like she did.

“Holy shit—Vicky?” His head turned to look at her. She was barely shorter than him.

Lyric hadn’t seen any of them in a long time, Victoria being the first to see him again was… he didn’t mind it. He had always liked Victoria and Osuke the most of them all. 

“I haven’t seen you in forever… how are you doing?”

“I’ve been doing dandy, doing a lot of things since we parted. I deal over at the casino—and I… I’ll tell you about the rest at another time.” 

“You always were a gambler, just like Tadashi.” He shrugged. 

Victoria slid her arm away from Lyric, taking a step back to get a better look at him. Her gaze flickered over to Lyric Jr. and then the frappuccino.

“Cute little guy you got there, that for a girlfriend… or boyfriend?”

The comment caused Lyric’s mouth to come open, his eyes narrowing. 

“Ha ha, very funny. He’s my son, knucklehead.”

“You know if things ever get tough in the love department, you’d hit it off great with the gay men in this city. I know they’d love you.”

Lyric stared at Victoria. He was trying to glare, but he couldn’t muster it. She stood with a stupid, braindead smile on her face—looking more like a stone head than a proper woman. He wanted to punch her stupid little face.

“Okay, Buddy, quit your yapping. I am not gay,” he sounded annoyed, even if he wasn’t that annoyed.

“Well, you’re not wearing a skirt or thigh highs anymore… but you do still have a look." 

She leaned in closer, looking Lyric up and down. He could see the mean words processing in her dim eyes. She looked tired—more tired than she used to at least. He was tempted to ask, going to before she interrupted.

“You’re wearing hippie glasses now.” 

Her finger came up and poked the teal lens of the shades gently.

“They’re called teashades.” He corrected her quickly.

“And you have more teal highlights in your hair than before.” 

“They were starting to fade.” He defended quicker.

“And you’re wearing earrin—” 

“And you still sound like you smoke ten packs a day.” Lyric cut her off, knowing just where to hit.

The dumb smile she had on her face disappeared. “Piss off… man, I don’t even smoke that much. That shit is so unfair. Cerys smokes just as much as Tadashi and she has the voice of an angel.” 

“That’s just your… luck.” His lips compressed, curling very slowly into a smile—waiting for her to get it.

Victoria closed her eyes and shook her head. She didn't look angry, just disappointed in him. 

“C’mon… it was funny, man.” 

Lyric watched as she continued to shake her head, having no plans of stopping.

“I can’t believe you’re the first person I see from the old group after all this time.” 

That got her to open her eyes, tilting her head—she looked at him strangely. He knew exactly what she was thinking. He wouldn’t say anything in hopes she let it pass.

“Meh, I can’t say you’re the first. I see Tadashi at the casino sometimes. I’ve also seen Jin with him, but we don’t talk. I was surprised they reunited after the fight they had.” 

“They actually made up? You mean to tell me… they’re not hate fucking anymore? Just regular fucking?” 

Maybe it wasn’t so impossible after all. Maybe they weren’t who they were…

Nah, still assholes.

“Annnyyywaaays, what brings you here? I never took you as the type to go to the mall.” Lyric did his best to move on—he didn’t want to say anything he might regret. 

“Just meeting some friends. I wouldn't come here for anything else. We’re going to have a fun night out soon—something we’ve been planning for a while, and we finally got what we need to do it,” Victoria spoke softly, in a hushed tone.

“I figured you wouldn’t come here for anything. Well, if that’s the case, I can delta. I wouldn’t want to ruin your fun by spreading my gay germs everywhere.” Lyric said in the most sarcastic way humanly possible. He didn’t want to give her a chance to use that against him.

“Awh man… it was really good seeing you again.” Victoria gave him a tiny wave as he turned.

“Good seeing you too, old friend!” 

<><>

Stepping out of the mall and into the beaming sun, Lyric pressed his teashades to his face more closely. Today was warmer; it wasn’t going to be like this much longer—he would cling onto any sort of flickering traces of the Fall there was. It was a little hard to do that when almost every tree was clear of its leaves.

Lyric had been standing at the entrance of the mall for a while, thinking to himself. He was about done with his frappuccino, his dear book clutched in the other hand. He started down the stairs and towards his car—that was, until it struck him.

He kinda had to take a whiz now—and by kinda—he really needed to. Lyric could go all the way back into the mall, but then he runs the risk of running into mall cop Tristan. He was not in the mood to deal with Tristan today; anything but Tristan would be preferable. It would ruin what was an otherwise pretty good day. He could pee in the parking lot… yeah, real bright idea. 

His steps picked up, deciding on the back of the mall—it wasn’t like he had anywhere else. 

Pants at his knees, he had one hand on his pecker and the other clutching his waistband so that it didn’t completely fall. Lyric was taking that whiz now. He had placed his book on a dumpster right beside where he was unleashing his lemonade-coloured stream. Just about done, he was really hoping someone didn’t come out of the back doors.

That stopped being his primary concern when he heard footsteps behind him—they were the sneaky type of footsteps.

He turned his head only a bit, glancing behind him. 

The sight got a tired groan out of him: There was a short white-haired boy pointing a gun at him.

“I’m in the middle of something,” Lyric mumbled. The golden river was not quite finished yet. 

“Yeahhh… I don’t give a shit… you’re going to give me your wallet.” The boy took a step closer.

Lyric rolled his eyes. Both of his hands were preoccupied at the moment, which wasn’t a big deal. 

“What do you think is faster, that gun or my Manifest?” Lyric turned his head away from him, looking down at where he was showering the asphalt in gold. 

“Ok, sure, silly goose. That’s a great bluff.” He took another step forward. “Just give me your money, I don’t really wanna shoot you—gay solidarity, me and you.” 

“I’m not…” he started with a grumble, deciding to let it go. Of all the things he should be concerned about, being called gay was at the bottom. “I’ll give you one chance to walk away… just take it.”

“I’m going to shoo—”

Lyric turned around, shifting to the side. At the exact same moment, Lyric’s book flew up into the air beside him, ripping open—two glowing pages from inside the book shot out and took the shape of arrows made of this yellow-coloured energy—his Mars, which formed spectral arrows. At the same time as the boy fired the gun, both arrows zipped at him.

The bullet grazed Lyric’s cheek, not causing much harm. Meanwhile, one arrow ripped right into the boy’s shoulder; the other arrow jammed right into the barrel of the gun, stopping it from firing anymore.

Lyric watched as the boy was now dangling a few feet above the ground by his shoulder, the arrow having gotten stuck in a wall. 

Turning back, he finished up with his tinkling and shook dry. Pulling up his pants, tightening his belt, wiping his hands off on the side of his pants, he was finally ready to face his would-be mugger. 

“FUCKER!” The little man screamed right at him. He was actively in the process of ripping the arrow out of his shoulder. 

“I warned you,” Lyric said in tandem with a sigh–he knew that wouldn’t matter to him. “You seriously could walk away now… I just want to go home.” 

Lyric considered vanishing right there, but curiosity was getting the better of him. 

Lyric dismissed the arrow, having it vanish from his shoulder and dropping him back to the ground. He was leaking blood from the wound, his neon yellow hoodie stained with new big red blotch. 

“I’m going to get you back for that… you stupid fa—”

“HEY! Whatever you were going to say… do not say that.” Lyric jut his finger out at the boy. “Ok… What’s your name, bud.” 

“Nunya,” he responded quietly.

Lyric stood there in silence, he swore to everything—it better not be.

“Ok, Nuny—”

“Nunya business.” 

“...”

The pages that came flying out of his book and into Lyric’s hand would fold together. All of his Manifest energy came coloured yellow—save for this, which turned to a deep dark blue—his Neptune, which folded multiple pages into a trident. He threw it right at his chest, really putting his arm into it. 

The trident would flip mid-air, redirecting from his chest towards his hand, where he caught it. 

Great, this kid had a Manifest too.

Yet, Lyric didn’t see any sort of Manifest form appear… had he had his Manifest active this whole time? One of his eyes was green and the other was purple. He could only assume that was his Manifest form. 

“Ashton… by the way, it’s Ashton.” Ashton spun the trident in his hands surprisingly well. 

That same trident would unform, Lyric dismissing it too. 

“You piss me off… You really are zero fun.” Ashton looked at his empty hand. 

“I think we’re done… I don’t want to get bloody, man.” Lyric shook his head.

Ashton was over the talking—or at least, that was the conclusion Lyric came to when he rushed him. Scanning over Ashton: he was shorter than Lyric by a few inches, he had a slim frame, and didn’t have any weapons on him. His Manifest had just taken the Neptune. Maybe he could take other people’s Manifest abilities. That was Lyric’s best guess, he didn’t have a lot longer to think about it. 

Ashton had closed the distance quickly. 

Lyric jumped back, trying to create a little more space. Another page ripped out of his book, shooting at Ashton—his Saturn, which created a strong burst of air which forced Ashton back.

With the newly created space, Lyric formed three more Mars out of the pages that came from his book, which was slowly getting smaller. He had a lot of pages, but when he ran out of pages, he ran out of Manifest energy. Lyric was lucky enough to have a decent chunk of energy. He hoped that Ashton had a smaller amount of energy if this came to a battle of attrition. 

Firing off all three Mars at once, he was aiming mainly for Ashton’s legs and arms. The police responded quickly to incidents regarding Manifests, there was no doubt someone had heard or noticed by now. 

Ashton slipped between the Mars, getting back up in front of Lyric. He planted his foot on the ground and sent a knee towards Lyric’s side, digging into it successfully. He followed it up with a cross right to his jaw. 

Lyric’s head snapped back, busting his lip and nearly falling on his ass. He knew he was going to have a hard time keeping up with Ashton, someone who knew how to fight. 

Lyric really wasn’t skilled with his hands, he always relied on his Manifest for fights—and he didn’t fight all that often, he did his best to avoid it. That didn’t make him incapable, he had tricks.

Two pages ripped from the book that floated around Lyric; one of them hit the ground and the other Lyric’s palm—his Mercury and Moon. The Mercury formed on the ground, creating a little energy imp that targeted Ashton; the Moon shifted into a sharp crescent shape in his hand. 

The imp leaped onto Ashton’s back, digging into him with its claws. It was weighing him down, though not by much since it was only three feet tall. 

That distraction was all Lyric needed to slit the Moon across Ashton’s chest, in one smooth motion he brought it back, flipping it in his hand and slamming the lower end of the crescent into his shoulder. The imp disappeared as he dug into his shoulder. 

Before Lyric could follow up, the crescent ripped out of Ashton’s shoulder and into his palm. Within the moment it took Lyric to process what the boy had just done, Ashton cut into Lyric’s stomach, ripping up towards his chest and nearly the base of his neck, only stopped from destroying his throat by the Moon unforming. 

Lyric was spilling blood like a fountain, his skin hung loose, the front of his torso cleaved in half. His eyes were wide, teeth clenched. 

Using another Saturn, he poured a shit ton of energy into this one. Ashton was sent soaring into the wall behind him so incredibly hard that the concrete chipped, a massive red blotch left from the wound in his shoulder splattering the wall. 

Ashton collapsed to a knee, wheezing and fighting to get the air back into his lungs. His left arm hung like deadweight, the impact of the wall had opened his already present shoulder wound. 

Lyric was bleeding out horribly. Ashton had gotten him pretty badly. It would be fatal if he didn’t have a way to repair it—which he, of course, did. A page tore from the book and landed on his chest, using his Jupiter to completely heal the wounds. The graze on his cheek along with the tear in his torso came back together. The only trace of their existence was in the blood that surrounded the skin and his torn t-shirt.

“The cops are coming here any second, Ashton. I’m going to leave.” Lyric turned his back to him.

“Sure, sure… like I give a shit.” Ashton shook his head. 

Lyric didn’t get further than three steps before there was another problem in the form of a young woman diving feet-first right at him, a nailed bat raised high above her head. 

Wasting absolutely no time, multiple pages from the book hit the ground and a bright yellow translucent barrier dome engulfed Lyric—that would be his Sol, a barrier he could hold for thirty seconds. 

The entire dome would crack, damn near shattering from the impact of the bat on the very top of it. The young woman slid down the dome and rolled roughly on the asphalt, standing a few feet away from the Sol. She turned to Lyric, looking him up and down. 

Lyric was unsure what he was looking at here—Ashton looked weird, but in the neon-yellow-hoodie-and-white-hair cringe way—this girl looked genuinely fucked up: one of her eyes was a bloodshot red, pupil shaky and narrow; the other eye was covered with large square bandage. She had scars all across her arms, neck—fuck, every visible piece of skin was scarred to hell. She had piercings all over her face and ears, including a spiked collar, wearing multiple silver chains with that—she had more metal in her than a toolbox. The worst part was the devil look she had—small wings protruding from her back, a spiked tail just like you’d see from a demon in a cartoon, and sharp nails which looked more like claws. The final piece was the pitch-black halo hovering above her head. He had to assume the devil look was a Manifest form; he didn’t want to know what her Manifest was—she was carrying around a nailed bat. This bitch was crazy. 

“Come out of there, pussy,” she called to him, her head turning back to Ashton momentarily. 

“Before we even start this… what’s your name.”

“Succubitch,” she responded, pridefully. 

“I am not calling you that.” 

Lyric already formed a Neptune in his hand, preparing himself.

Succubitch would reel the bat backwards, Lyric knew the next time she struck his Sol, it was probably going to shatter. He had to be quick about figuring out what her Manifest was, and how he was getting out of this situation.

Before any of that could matter, the bat was torn from the woman’s grip, flying right into Ashton’s hand belonging to his good arm. The little man was back to standing, holding the bat firmly in his grasp. 

“I lied. I do give a shit. I’d threaten to shove the bat up your ass but… well… I don’t wanna pleasure you.”

Lyric dropped the Sol. The woman’s back was now to him, which gave him the opportunity to lunge forward, slamming the prongs of the trident into her back—they didn’t get deeper than an inch before he couldn’t dig any deeper. 

Two conclusions could be made by Lyric from the series of events—it was weapons that Ashton could steal, not Manifest abilities; and ‘Succubitch’ had some pretty worrisome durability. 

She turned around and slammed her fist into Lyric’s chest, her halo glowing much brighter the second before the punch landed. 

The right side of his chest—skin, muscle, and some bone came flying off, splattering everywhere. He hardly had time to process the initial strike before she followed up with one right to his stomach. 

Lyric collided with the dumpster behind him, it gave way to the imprint of his body, bending inwards around him. He damn had a hole in his stomach—nothing a page of Jupiter couldn’t fix, of course, but he had to put more energy into it this time. Glancing at his book for just a second, he had about half of what he started with. He wasn’t sure how many more pages he could afford at this rate. 

“Couldn’t happen to anyone but me...” Lyric whispered. Even after healing, he was feeling the lingering pain coursing through his body. 

If the woman had intended to continue, she was quickly cut off from it by the collision of the nailed bat to the side of the head. 

The force of the blow did not equal the amount of harm dealt. She was sent rolling a few feet on the ground, her body flailing until she regained a semblance of control, standing back up, wobbly and struggling. 

The side of her face was mushed bananas. Small sheets of skin slid down the mess, plopping onto the ground, accompanied by a steady drip of blood. Her blood began to coagulate, turning thick as it hit the asphalt. It was happening slowly, but her blood was clotting, and the skin was regrowing. 

Ashton—bat still in hand—turned his attention to Lyric immediately after. Lunging for him, there was a shift in how he moved: It was quicker, more focused. He knew what he was doing with a weapon in hand, and just how to strike. Bringing the bat down towards Lyric’s face.

It was a panicked decision he had to make, Ashton hadn’t given him much time to react. Saturn would need a lot of energy to push him back at this range. Neither Mars or Moon would stop the bat from caving in his face. He needed to decide, NOW.

Eight pages shot out of his book—one of which landed in Lyric’s hand, the other stopped directly in front of Ashton’s face. Moving in sync with the sudden burst of light that shot out of the page—his Uranus, which could be used as a flashlight, or in this situation, to blind his attacker. Lyric formed a Neptune in his hand using the other seven and pushed himself upwards.

The bat struck his shoulder hard, shredding his skin and cracking his arm out of place horrifically. The pain wasn’t enough to stop Lyric. He turned his body, slipping past Ashton and rotating to face his back.  

He sent the prongs of the trident right through Ashton’s torso—impaling him directly in the center of his back and out through his chest. He then ripped it back out. He could only hope that was enough to take him out of the fight.

The incessant blaring of sirens was coming worryingly close, the sound of the MSTF—The Manifest Suppression Task Force: a pack of hounds designed specifically to hunt people like them. The extraordinary who needed a tight leash to play safe with the ‘vulnerable’ people. 

Lyric had to leave the area, now—they all did if they wanted to walk away from this alive or free. 

His eyes shot over to Succubitch, who rather than running, had launched herself right at Ashton. Her halo was glowing even brighter than when she struck Lyric in the stomach, and her fist was directed at Ashton’s skull.

Without hesitation, Lyric shot a Jupiter towards Ashton and a strong Saturn at the woman who was intent on killing him. 

She was sent off course, being mid-lunge made it all the worse. She was hurled through the air, ripping the door to the back of the mall clean off its hinges on her way in. 

Ashton, on the other hand, laid against the dumpster, having previously been bleeding out pretty badly. It seemed his Manifest didn’t come with any regenerative capabilities like the other two had. 

“I didn’t need your help! You… lardass,” Ashton shouted, forcing himself up. 

Lyric opened his mouth to say something—cut off by the sirens stilling. 

That meant the hounds were out of their vehicles and hunting. 

Without wasting any more time, Lyric’s book came right up beside him. A storm of pages flew out of it, dozens of them circled him like a tornado, completely engulfing him.

By the time the pages settled down and disappeared, Lyric was gone alongside them.

Chapter Text

Voices, there were a lot of voices in this place. Bouncing off the walls, this place they had been taken to sounded full. Through the bags, they could tell the room was poorly lit. Primarily rectangles of red light as they walked down what felt like an endless path.

The three of them had to have passed through at least a handful of checkpoints, continuously stopped and patted down for foreign objects in their clothes. Phones, wallets, keys, everything was taken from them. 

It all stopped right in front of one of the rectangles they had been passing on their way here. Blinded by the sudden removal of the bags over their heads, they were forced into a nearly empty box built to fit a decent chunk of people. It was just the three of them in there.

Jin turned to face the ones that had brought them here, it was Marcel and others who had been backstage at the carnival. His eyes drifted around the environment they had been put in before his attention came back to Marcel once he spoke.

“Stay in your cell and behave until it is your time.” He sounded tired yet demanding. 

The door to their new home closed. It didn’t matter if Jin had tried to escape with the door open, he took one look around and the hope for conventional escape faded.

Cameras and speakers were set up in every corner of the long room. Twelve containment cells lined up in rows of six on the left and right side of a grated floor. The walls and ceilings were roughly constructed for strength—thick concrete and metal beams meant to ensure no one got in or out through them. The inside of their cells were brightly lit with these disorienting red lights and one TV mounted on the wall opposite of the door, that was all they got.  

The guards were armed with automatic weapons and more armour than anyone should ever need. Not a millimeter of skin showed through all their gear. 

Jin stopped trying to think of a way to escape—rather, he turned his attention back to the other two in the cell. 

“You two have… Manifests… right?” Ava looked between Jin and Lilith. 

There was a cracking smile on her face. She was trying to smile, she was trying very hard—it was getting harder to grit her teeth and bear through this. 

“I have never been able to develop a Manifest,” Jin answered quietly. 

“If you listened to my interrogation on stage, he did mention my abilities.” Lilith’s voice came from across the room, already leaning against a wall. 

Jin huffed and brought himself down to the floor, crossing his legs. He wanted a chance to see the source of the voices they had been hearing. There were others here with them.

His eyes first met a young foreign woman, from what he could tell, she was some sort of east Asian. She had an unnerving look in her eyes, like there was more than one person in there. 

It then moved to a man, his hair messy but the most striking part of his appearance was one of his eyes—a complete milk white. He was grinning hideously, an ugly, ugly smile. 

Next was a… homeless man? They all were somewhat rough, but this one looked as if they had picked him up right off the streets. Back-length ashen hair and shabby clothes. 

A cruel-looking Hyena was the best way he could describe who he was now looking at. He had the face of a slobbering canine and demeanour to match. He didn’t want to look at him too long.

This one had grey skin and snow hair—definitely a user of one too many Soul-Tethers. He looked to be the oldest of them all, in his thirties, likely. 

It was hard to tell what was underneath all the bandages on the tree of a man who was in the next box over. He was wrapped head to toe and wearing a heavy coat. 

There was a girl cradling herself in the corner of one of the cells; silence was all that came from her box. She had green and black hair done in a messy ponytail. 

The last one that got Jin’s attention was a kid that could not be older than seventeen. Buzzed hair and a lifeless look. It was an upsetting sight, even for Jin. 

“He’s led us right into the heart of his operations, like the idiot he is. This is a good thing.” Jin sounded almost amused, he really believed what he was saying.

“It appears so… I do hope this is done and over with soon… so we can put this investigation to rest,” Lilith spoke quietly, avoiding being listened to. 

Ava didn’t care to listen to what they were saying. Something else caught her eye. The man in bandages would be waving enthusiastically right at the three of them. Ava was compelled to wave back, even if awkwardly.

“The investigation is nowhere near closed, we have to leave this place, then find out how deep the rabbit hole goes.” 

“That's fair. I am quite curious as to how deep the rabbit hole goes as well, but what we should be focusing on now is survival… and once all of us make it out alive then, we can put our minds back with the investigation.” She took a moment to breathe. “I am beginning to mentally prepare for any fights to ensure my spawn will perform exceptionally and so I don't get hurt. I am not too fond of hand-to-hand combat; I like to keep my distance from my opponent for as long as possible.” 

“Dude… you still talk a lot.” That got Ava to finally speak up, looking back at Lilith. 

“I. Am. Aware,” she spoke through gritted teeth. 

Jin was able to stifle his chuckle at that. He was happy if there was anything they could all still agree on.

“The truth is, we have no idea what the jester plans for us, and if he plans to keep us alive.” Jin was focused on Lilith. 

“He did say either kill us or use us for profit, right? Maybe we’ll get trafficked out of here.” Ava shrugged. 

She walked over to the wall opposite of Lilith, tilting her head back to look at the ceiling. She could feel that her energy was low. She lost most of the sugar in her because of the carnival show heat.

A sharp, shrill scratching ran across the entire room, originating from the speakers around them. 

“Hello gentlemen and gentlewomen, it is my pleasure to be hosting the next four days of fun, our annual tournament. You know what that means. For the new fighters, I’ll spell it out for you. You’ve gotta run through a tournament… winner gets a… cookie? Or maybe a new forever home for you sad little orphans.” 

The voice was painfully familiar, no other than Jack himself. He was putting on his show voice again, which was somehow less grating than his real voice. 

“The fights will go as follows: Lilith vs. Sydney, Zion vs. Dante, Ava vs. Lucian, Mika vs. Ezekiel, Daniel vs. a very special guest, and we’ll finish the night with Jin vs. JD… get yourselves strapped in, we’re in for tons of fun.” 

“JD…” Jin muttered, looking around to identify his opponent. He couldn’t see anyone giving themselves away. 

Ava also tried to identify her opponent; she was successful, noticing the grey-skinned man smiling right at her. So that was Lucian, he was unnerving; she really wished it was anyone else. 

The white-eyed man turned himself to the foreign woman, screaming at her in what Jin could identify as Japanese. His Japanese was rusty, but he had a basic understanding. He got enough to catch that the woman was Mika, and the man yelling at her was Ezekiel. 

At the same time, the bandaged man was looking right at the homeless-looking one. He wasn’t speaking; it seemed more like he couldn’t than he wouldn’t, Lilith inferred that from his ecstatic movements.

There was only one other woman here: black, green, and crazy, which meant that was who Sydney was. 

Lilith sized her opponent up and smirked, confident she’d win. 

“I’ll try to keep it light on you, Zion.” The homeless man spoke up, which meant he had to be Dante.

“This shouldn’t be too bad.” Jin went to face them once more, calm. 

“I believe I have the upper hand, but I like the cards to fall where they may.” She crossed her arms.

“I’ll help pay for your medical bills.” She saluted at the Manifestless Jin—sorely missing the confidence he had in himself. 

“You have enough money to do that?” Jin whispered, maybe actually curiously. 

“Probably not…” she mumbled. “But I can try to help.” She gave him a thumbs-up.
“LETTTTTTTTTTTT ME OUT OF THIS CELL, JACKY!” Ezekiel was slamming against his cell violently, oozing excitement. Of them all, he seemed the most dangerous. 

Mika’s face had a tinge of disgust. 

Zion brought a finger to the side of his head and swirled it around, covering his mouth to laugh, yet no sound was being produced. 

Jack chipped back in after the same shrill scratch. 

“Ezekiel, shut the fuck up.” 

There was a faint laughter that could be heard through the speakers, only interrupted by the disappointed sigh of a lady. 

Zion began to ‘laugh’ at Ezekiel once more; all of them enjoyed Ezekiel’s misery, until he started. 

“JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK. JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK. JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK. JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK. JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK. JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK. JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK. JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK JACK”

Mika’s head shot over in Ezekiel’s direction. 

“黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れれ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れれ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れれ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れれ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れれ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れれ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れれ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れれ 黙れ 黙れ黙れ 黙れれ 黙れ.”

Dante was gently smacking his head against the door. 

Ava slowly slid down the cell wall, her fingers clutching her hair incredibly hard. “Oh my god.” She was caught between screaming and laughing her ass off.

 Zion was having the time of his life, ‘laughing’ even more. 

“Do they… ever shut up?” Jin groaned, placing his hands over his ears. 

Same shrill scratch. 

“Boys, girls, behave. Don’t embarrass me tonight… this isn’t even close to the worst it can get.” 

That got both Ezekiel and Mika to shut up, albeit begrudgingly.  

A few peaceful, silent minutes would pass. 

Lilith was meditating, clearing her mind. It became easier once they had all gone quiet; it was getting impossible with all the noise around them. Her mediating came to a stop once the cell door came open. 

“Lilith Desdemona. Come with us.” One of the masked guards spoke to her.

Lilith did as they asked, raising her hands halfway as she left the cell. “Wish me luck, the both of you.” 

“You got this.” Jin reassured her, not that she seemed worried 

Lilith was led by the guards down the grated floor and off to the left where it branched out. Across from the hall she was taking, was another one leading to the right, the one that they took Sydney down. 

“Wait for him to announce you, then come out.” They gave her simple instructions before leaving. 

Back in the cell, Jin and Ava waited on opposing sides of the room, silent, until the TV in their room came to life, displaying what appeared to be an arena from an overhead view. 

“There she is…” Jin muttered.

“I’m sure she’s got it,” Ava responded with an unconvincing amount of confidence.  

<><>

Jack stood inside of the sizable pit, letting the cheers soak in. They had been going on for a while now, a non-ending applause that he reveled in. His arms were out wide, his head tilted back, staring up at the bright blue lights that lit the platform he stood on. 

There was a tiny woman who stood beside him—tiny, at least, when next to Jack’s towering frame. She was like a female Jack: green-coloured hair, white face paint, though her makeup differed from his—she had a blue diamond over her right eye and a yellow star over the other. Black lipstick stained her mouth, the colour bleeding past the corners to create a wider smile. 

Bringing the microphone in her hands to his lips. She was smiling widely at him.

Jack paused for half a second—the cheers swelled as soon as he was about to speak. It brought a smile to his face. He hadn’t done a single thing yet.

“People of the state! You have gathered here to witness this year's Jackshow’s Funshow and Bloodshow.” 

He was met with a roar of approval, responding in kind by spinning on his heel, giving the crowd two whole spins. 

“ANNNDDDDD FIRST OUT!” Jack pointed to the shutters on his right.

“THE fiend, psycho, white-nosed, rainbow-veined, green-choking, leaf-smoking… SYDNEY SHAW!” 

Sydney shook violently as she stepped out of the now open shutters and onto the platform. Her face was ghastly—hands on her head, clawing at her scalp. 

“And on the other side… representing Hot Topic… The barcode-armed, suicidal-but-not-quite-there, demon whisperer… LILITH DESDOMONA!” 

Lilith’s heels clicked on the floor, announcing her arrival before she appeared. As she made her way onto the platform, she glared at Jack, that was not a flattering introduction, and definitely not accurate. Her gaze didn’t linger on him though, moving to her opponent quickly. She studied Sydney, trying to get a read on her.

“You’re in for a treat, Monarch of Darkness,” Jack piped to her, his voice further than before. 

The microphone had disappeared from the girl’s hand by the time Lilith looked back over. She moved her fingers in a playful wave. 

“Can I get something sharp?” Lilith figured it was worth asking—maybe Jack would be generous.

“Awh… I really wish I could. Sadly, suicide prevention protocals and all… can’t have you decide now’s time to end it all. So, get creative.” 

Jack disappeared into the shutter Lilith had emerged from, both shutters closing once he was gone. 

Now with the jester gone, Lilith took some time to look around. The pit was similar to the room they’d been in—made to last, built of various metals. The walls around them sloped to a halfway point, then rose straight up to the balconies. That’s where the crowd surrounded all four sides, a waist-height railing the only thing keeping them from spilling over. 

She was curious if Jack was watching. That curiosity quelled by a voice from the wall behind her.

“You heard ’em, folks! This fight is between our beloved crackwhore and the dreaded Monarch of Darkness… You may know me, Alicia Wells—and you definitely know my co-commentators, Jack Trades and Ianiara Romanos. We’ll be giving you only the most accurate and in-depth fight analysis.”

Lilith turned to see Alicia—the green-haired minx from beside Jack. Her voice was altered when she spoke into her microphone, like she’d pulled it out of a Transatlantic radio broadcast. The three of them sat at a haphazard commentary table behind a thick slit in the wall. 

“And, a special note… I’d like to thank our dear friend down there, Lilith! Had she not yapped so much and wasn’t a TOTAL bitch—her and her sweet little friends wouldn’t be here tonight to entertain you. That being said, can we all thank her?” Alicia added. 

The crowd rained down applause on Lilith, clapping their hands for her. 

Lilith already scanned the arena for a weapon, but she found nothing. She considered her earring—gold. It’d do if she really needed it. 

She looked across at Sydney, waiting on her move. She did not have to wait long.

Sydney’s breathing sped up, tears streaming in a constant flow. The tears morphed into a garish mix of pink, blue, green, yellow, black—colours clashing and fusing. The fluid appeared only in her tears, and then her eyes, then her nails. It dripped to the ground, keeping its colourful property.

Sydney snapped suddenly, spazzing, she rushed toward Lilith. She was uncoordinated and feral.

Lilith raised her guard, preparing. “The hell is her problem?” 

Sydney moved at a reasonable rate until she didn’t, picking up an unexpected amount of speed. She pressed her foot into the platform, launching herself at Lilith.

Lilith barely had time to move, sending herself back in hopes to avoid her nails. She wasn’t completely successful, her shirt tearing as the woman’s nails dug into her skin and shredded a small wound in her collar. 

“For those of you who have never seen this before, the liquid Sydney is producing has a psychedelic effect… and man, is it EFFECTIVE!” Alicia chuckled, enjoying Lilith’s pain. 

“W-What…” 

With that, Lilith could only focus on the feeling of the liquid spreading from her wound, getting into her blood. In the moment that Lilith was distracted by the announcement, Sydney slammed her nails into her bicep, ripping at it. 

Lilith choked back a scream, reeling her fist back and decking the woman with all the force she could. Her bicep lost flesh and she could tell the effect was already starting. Her vision was crossing over itself, dimming. 

“Seriously..?” she whispered.
“Two successful swipes from Sydney, can she land a third?” 

Sydney wasn’t halted by the strike for too long, right back at it within seconds. She lunged for Lilith, arms above her head.

Lilith met her halfway, grasping her wrists tightly. Sydney was still sobbing the same patterned tears, but Lilith didn’t care, glaring at her. “Do you ever shut up?” 

She bashed her forehead against Sydney’s nose, proceeding to slam her knee into the woman’s stomach, then using the arms she had in her grasp to turn, ripping Sydney over her shoulder and onto the ground hard. 

“Yikes, that looks like it's gotta hurt! Our little emo finally gets some hits in.”

“It’s… my…” She felt her tongue tie on itself. The psychedelics were starting to kick her ass. 

She knew she had to do it now before her blood was completely tainted, ripping her earring off and rolling up her sleeve while Sydney recovered. 

Her arm had dozens of scars across it, constant cutting on the same forearm, top to bottom. 

Lilith slammed the sharpest bit of the earring into her wrist once, but it failed to pierce. She did it again, and again, and again. She tore into her wrist frantically until the wound was large enough to leak plenty of blood. 

Sydney lunged for her again, this time going for her eyes.

Lilith brought her foot up and slammed it into Sydney’s chest, the momentum of her lunge causing the kick to nearly cave in her ribs. Sydney was sent sprawling backwards and onto her back, crying harder. 

“What’s this? She’s summoning a Manifest!” Alicia finally sounded excited about something Lilith did.

The blood that poured from Lilith’s wrist darkened into a black, thick tar. It pooled on the ground, forming a decently sized pool of tar. Lilith was cursing herself for not doing it sooner, she had to keep a strong mind and focus for her Manifest to be active. 

Flying out of the pool, the creature moved very quickly, gripping into Sydney’s shoulder with taloned feet. It lifted her a few feet into the air before letting go. Sydney was sent flying into the sloped wall, her body bouncing off of it hard. 

“OHHHH! The bitch summoned a… raven? Sending Sydney into the wall!” 

Landing right beside her, it settled down. Lilith looked at the summon beside her—this was her Malphas. It was dripping tar, composed completely of it. It had the head and legs of a raven, the body of a man, though instead of arms, it had wings. 

“Good boy.” She glanced over at Malphas, petting it.

She didn’t get to pet for long, Sydney had gotten right back up and was running towards Lilith. 

Malphas shot up into the air, staying out of range of Sydney.

Lilith brought her arms up to defend herself, taking the best defensive stance she could. She was confident she could avoid taking any more damage. 

Sydney flattened her hand, plunging her fingers directly into Lilith’s stomach. They reached all the way to the base of her pinkie. Her liquid was filling Lilith now, deep inside her. 

“YEEEOUCH! That’s gotta be painful. I wonder how much longer Lilith can keep this up.” 

Lilith gasped, feeling the air leave her lungs. She knew she had her guard up, when could she have dropped it? Sydney wasn’t that close. How long has it been since she started this fight? They had to have been here forever, that’s what it felt like. 

She grasped Sydney’s wrist tightly, trying to stop her from digging any deeper. Her grip was slipping; she felt like she couldn’t control her body, her brain wasn’t communicating with her hand. 

Malphas nose-dived directly for Sydney, slamming into her with its beak. That got her away from Lilith successfully. 

Sydney dug into its neck, not letting go. She scrambled on top of it, clawing away at Malphas, the entity disintegrating into a mist quickly—it was the physically weakest of her demons.

Lilith stumbled back, watching Malphas be destroyed. She collapsed to her knees, holding her stomach tightly; it felt like it was impossible to breathe. She had to snap out of this, her body felt more disconnected with every second that passed. 

“Awhh… Is she sad over her pet?” Alicia mocked. “Now she can kill herself and no one will miss her.” 

Sydney rushed back over to Lilith, slamming her hand into Lilith’s face and taking her to the ground. Already on top of her, she was scratching at her violently, all over her collar and chest region. 

 Her hands came up to try and shove Sydney off, but it was useless. She was too weak like this. 

“No… stop… f-fuck!” she screamed through gritted teeth. 

Nothing was coming to save her; she had to do this herself. 

She mustered up every last bit of cognitive power she still had to look over at the tar-like pool. It was still there, which meant she had a few seconds. Using the remaining control she had of her mind, she was able to call upon Leraje—three arrows shooting out of the pool and up in the air, they redirected into Sydney’s back. 

Sydney screamed and reached back to pull them out, the skin of her back was drooping, turning into a tar-like liquid. Sydney was completely exposed with her hands behind her back—it was now or never.

Lilith shot her fist forward with ferocity, putting her all into an uppercut right on the button. 

Sydney’s head snapped back, her lights going out. She collapsed off of Lilith and onto the ground beside her.

“Yikers… heh… looks like Lilith is our winner I guess… yaaaay.” She couldn’t have sounded any less enthusiastic about it. 

With Sydney unconscious, her Manifest was deactivated, which meant Lilith was back in her normal headspace. Despite this, Lilith didn’t get up; she wasn’t sure if she could; the wounds on her body were still there, her shirt was torn to shit. She was going to need to ask for a new one. “The hell…”

“Well, wasn’t that a heartwarming mess. Great display of your Manifest too… now haul your bruised little ass outta my arena—we’ve got more blood to spill.” Jack stood overtop of her, a big smirk on his face. 

Lilith sat up with a tired groan, “I… need a new shirt, and someone to fix me up.” She looked up at him.

“Get out of my arena.” 

<><> 

First taken to get treatment—they did not give her any sort of care using Manifests. The only treatment she got was stitches, bandages, and painkillers. It didn’t do much for her, but at least she was the first one to get the fighting over with. 

The cell door came open, Lilith stepping in. She looked at the TV in the room, then at the two sitting a distance apart, staring at it. 

“That wasn’t too much of a challenge… things went my way,” Lilith spoke, only to their backs.

“If that’s not a challenge for you—I’d like to see the state of you after a challenge.”

“She’ll be in shambles… might even give us some tears.” Ava responded to Jin, not Lilith.

“Like that time Osuke kept demolishing her at chess.” Jin chuckled faintly.

Lilith lingered in the doorway, the burning of her wounds and stinging of the antiseptic fresh on her skin, she was in pain. They weren’t even looking at her. 

“What are you two even watching?” Lilith grumbled, walking over.

Displayed on the screen was the same pit she had been in earlier—the blood from her fight was there. She only assumed that it was her and Sydney’s blood at least, but with the state of Zion on the screen, it might be him. 

“What’s happening?” Lilith mumbled, sitting in between the two of them. 

“The winner of last year’s tournament, Dante, is fighting Zion.” 

“Who’s winning?” 

Ava swatted at her, pointing to the screen. “Shhhh… just watch, Lilith.”  

The bandages on Zion’s face had been almost completely burnt off—revealing what hid under the once completely concealed man. His face was littered with scars over already present burn scars, which completely deformed the man beyond reasonable comprehension. His jaw hung open, broken and unable to close without bandages holding it in place—his eye was a bloodshot red, he seldom blinked. 

Dante had a cauterized stab wound on his bicep, but that was about it. Lilith was having a hard time telling what his Manifest was—Zion had a shadow-like figure standing beside him, dagger in hand, but Dante had no obvious Manifest form or ability. 

“So… What is his Manifest?” 

“He has more than one Manifest… Alicia said that he is able to copy three Manifests at once as long as he has seen it in action,” Jin muttered, focused. 

“Oh.” She looked to the ground. 

Lilith knew the cards wouldn’t fall right against him—for any of them. No wonder he won last year—now she wondered who came in second place? They hadn’t said who it was yet, maybe it was Ezekiel? 

Within the few seconds it took for Lilith to think, the fight was over. Zion looked to be in pain, though no noise came from him. The only sign of surrender was his hands raised in the air, which signaled for Alicia to call it. 

Jin finally brought himself to look away from the screen and over at Ava.

“Which means, it should be your fight that comes next.” He was containing a smirk. 

“Does that excite you, jackass?” Ava narrowed her eyes at him. 

“No, I just really hope you do better than Lilith.”

Lilith shifted her eyes over to him, peaking an eyebrow. 

“I want to see her face scrunch when you do.” 

“I will have you know, I did perfectly fine. I was unaware of what I was stepping into, and I finished the fight within two uses of my Manifest. She, on the other hand, was using her Manifest the entire time—one that gave her both a mental and physical edge over me. I believe that I deserve credit for my quick thinking and strategic use of my demons.” 

Ava and Jin slowly looked over at each other, unable to stop their shared smile from building. 

“What?” Her head bounced between them. “What’s funny?” 

“You ta-”

“I GET IT!”

Chapter Text

The shutter door in front of her cranked open.

“INTRODUCINGGGG FIRST: I don’t know what she does, but she does it well, she does it feisty, she is the Queen of Gleam, AVA BROWN!” 

“Here goes nothing,” she muttered.

She stepped out into the lights, right into the middle of the pit. She glanced up at the roaring crowd, their faces full of sugar-high excitement, cheering for blood like it was candy. It made her skin crawl.

“And her opponent: Fighting out of the depths of hell, the unforgiving equalizer, the Devil’s balance, God’s forgotten bastard,  LUCIAN NEWMAN!’ 

“Ok, man, what the fuck.” 

Lilith got a crackhead and Ava got this thing. Whatever type of anxiety she was feeling amplified by ten fold when he stepped out from the shutters and into the light. 

He was taller than she’d expected, easily Jack’s height. Worse, impossibly long-limbed, it was hard to see just how long under the white robes he wore. The sclera of his eyes were a dim grey just like his skin, the irises bleach white.

This was one of the many times she was upset to be as short as she was.

She wasted no time in forming the lollipop in her mouth, three bars appearing on her cheek: one for strength (red), one for speed (yellow), and one for reflex (blue). These three bars were lined up diagonally, having three notches each to fill. 

She was lucky to have gone a little later, it gave her energy time to recuperate. She was still low on sugar though, which meant her Manifest wasn’t going to be nearly as effective as usual. Regardless, she filled her speed bar two notches, launching towards Lucian with a practiced running form, dashing past him. Her track and field days were going to help her here.

Ava was moving at incredible speeds, quicker than Lucian was able to react. 

She struck his abdomen then her foot landed on the sloped wall and she pushed off.

She smacked the back of his head, planted her foot, and already launched back off. 

Her body raised off the ground, glancing off his shoulder with her knee. 

Lucian was just a second behind each strike, unable to keep up with Ava as is. 

One of his irises glowed a brighter white, the other dimmed to a pitch black. 

Ava was stopped by an invisible wall, her entire body slamming against it. She was sent to the floor hard. Ava writhed, the breaths not getting to her lungs. Her nails dug into the concrete beneath them. She had to get up. She really had to get up.

Before she could, Lucian ripped her up to her feet by her hair. She didn’t have the time to react. 

Spit flew from her mouth as her body curled around his fist. She staggered upright when he let go of her hair. 

Her knees felt weak beneath her; she was heaving the breaths in. Looking around them, she couldn’t see any sort of barrier that would stop her. Yet, when she tried to step back further, she hit something. Lucian was just a few feet across from her, she was unable to get out of his range. 

A kick to her ribs keeled her over, followed by an uppercut that snapped her head back, bouncing off of the invisible barrier. She brought her arms up to defend herself, but his movements were quick and focused—he knew where he was going to strike her five strikes before he executed it. Lucian’s movements reminded her of a stick bug. He used his long, thin limbs with a perfected efficiency. 

Her knees grew weaker, her body aching. She felt the blood building in her mouth; her lip was definitely busted. She felt herself losing energy just by being in the invisible barrier he made. She had no idea what to do in this situation. She knew she couldn’t waste time, not when she was going to keep losing energy passively. 

She had to try fighting back. She could—

She was sent to the floor by a kick to the side of her head, rolling and scrambling up to her feet away from him. She bit down on her busted lip hard, her fist shaking. This was embarrassing. This is not what she wanted. None of this is what she wanted, and yet here she was, just like when they were younger. Always just there, never a real reason, all because of her friends… ‘friends’. 

The notches on her speed bar disappeared, filling up the reflex bar completely. It was going to waste a lot of energy she didn’t want to. She didn’t give a fuck. 

She slipped under the head kick sent flying at her, then sidestepped the following back kick, she tucked her head into her forearm to intercept a jab. 

Slip, block, sidestep, slip, slip, block, sidestep, block, block.

He was relentless and she was unrelenting. Her energy kept being zapped. She could feel her reflexes getting slower. Her low sugar had already been a problem before her energy was drained. 

One notch down, her reactions got slower. He was grazing her now. She had to keep going; she had to find an opening.

Slip, block, slip, slip, block, sidestep—THERE.

She switched her bars one last time. It took a lot of energy to switch what bars she was using. Dumping every last ounce of energy she had into her strength bars, she filled it two notches—that needed to be enough.

She jumped up into the air, bringing her fist back incredibly far. Lucian’s leg came up to strike her side, digging in and shaking her organs. But he was open. Ava’s came crashing down, her fist colliding with Lucian’s jaw. Pushing the weight of her fall into the punch, she put all she had into it. 

Ava collapsed to the floor hard, landing on her back and grasping her side with both hands, it was agony; he had gotten her good. Her energy didn’t feel like it was being drained anymore. 

“Is that all you had?” Lucian finally spoke, turning Ava’s attention to him. 

He was on his knee. There was a small trickle of blood, but that was all her punch did. He stood up, stretching his neck, and looking down at the collapsed Ava. 

“One hit, that’s not all too impressive,” he mocked. 

Ava slammed her hand into the ground, forcing herself up. She could barely stand, but she also didn’t want to give in. Lilith’s face wasn’t scrunched enough yet. The thought made her laugh. She couldn’t help herself, her laugh turning into a small giggle. This was incredibly dumb and unnecessary.  

“Something funny?” Lucian was approaching her. 

“No. I just was really hoping to upset my friend.” 

She didn’t have a single bar left, her Manifest unforming. The lollipop between her lips disappeared. 

“Continue to fight, we are not done.” He stopped a few steps short of her.

“Look dude, I don’t even wanna be here. Just take this shit.” 

“Is that how you ended up here?”

“Huh?” 

“Giving up the second your situation looks bad. Is that why you’re here?" 

Ava stared at him in the silence following his words. There was no other sound in the world right now. Just her, and Lucian who stood across from her. 

He had no idea what he was talking about. He just wouldn’t get it. 

She could just surrender, put her hands up. 

It bugged her. He knew nothing about her.

Yeah, she was going to raise her hands now. 

It really bugged her. He knew absolutely jackshit about her. 

Her hand came up and directly into Lucian's jaw, pushing herself into it completely.

“YOU DON’T KNOW SHIT ABOUT SHIT!” She rushed forward. 

Her body was sent backwards by a kick directly to her chest. She was winded, not stopped

Rushing forward again, he kept using his superior reach to keep her at a distance. Any attempts she made at strikes were halted, he struck at the most unexpected times. 

It couldn’t stop her, He couldn’t be the one to stop her. 

Slip, block—

His fist thrashed against her jaw, splattering blood all over the floor.

block, block, slip—

Her knee almost snapped inwards when he oblique-kicked her leg.

Slip, block, slip, sidestep—NOW! 

His foot came up to take her head off her shoulders. Ava dove down to the ground, planting her palm into the concrete hard. Using the grip her hand and foot had on the ground, she drove her other foot directly into Lucian’s groin, sliding under him as she did so. 

Lucian keeled over momentarily, letting out a sharp grunt. Ava turned around from the slide, just a bit behind him. It was now or never. 

She ran forward and leapt. It was just like clearing a hurdle, she had always been good at hurdles. 

Over his back and right overtop of his head, her foot came down, driving Lucian’s head down to the ground with all her weight. The momentum sent her to her ass out of exhaustion. Her eyes shot over to continue with Lucian. He was motionless on the ground. 

“AND THAT’S GAME! OUR LOLLIPOP STAR, AVA BROWN, IS OUR WINNER!” Alicia shouted into her mic, clapping. 

Had Alicia been commentating this entire time? She didn’t hear it. It wasn’t like that mattered to her.

Jack was beside her. She hadn’t noticed that either; he was quick for such a tall man. 

“You are good entertainment. Clear out, Sugar Rush.” 

The nickname made her raise her eyebrow. It had been forever since someone called her that. Standing up and dusting herself off, she had a little smile. If Victoria had seen that, would she have found it cool? 

Once Ava cleared out, Jack got Alicia beside him once more, speaking into the mic she held for him. 

“Ladies and Ladymen, that was something, wasn’t it? Either way, the end of that fight means we have only three left: Mika and Ezekiel, Daniel and our special guest, and lastly Jin and JD.”

Jack clapped his hands together hard before he continued. 

“Let me let you in on a secret. Those are my heaviest hitters, my best fights. Which meansssss BREAK TIME!” He spun on his heels towards the shutter. “We’ll be right back, folks. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and morales aren’t either. I have to give my people encouragement!” 

<><>

Ava got right back into the cell as soon as possible. She didn’t need much tending to. There was a completely different priority on her fogged mind.

“Tell me she scrunched, right now, Jin, tell me she scrunched.” Her finger shot out to point at Lilith. 

“Her face scrunched,” Jin responded, smiling just as wide as Ava once she heard it. 

“I did not scrunch. You did good out there, Ava.” The second half was said quieter, begrudgingly. 

“Holy shit, she did.” Ava giggled, it hurt to do that. 

She made her way over to the middle of the cell, flopping. She rested against the cool floor, anything was better than standing, even the unsanitary floors. 

“Now we know you two will be advancing for sure. I will try my hardest.” There was conflict in the way he spoke.  

“Bah, what on earth is bothering you now?” Ava opened an eye to peek at him. 

“My opponent, the ‘JD’ guy. He’s the kid.” Jin pointed out. 

Ava followed his finger to where he pointed, it was the cell containing a teenager with buzzed hair. He looked rough. She hadn’t heard him speak or cause a scene since they got here. The idea of why he could be here made her frown, looking back at Jin.

“Does that really make a difference to you?”

Jin paused, having previously been looking at the kid. “What are you trying to say, Ava?” 

“I don’t know, maybe…” She looked to Lilith for help with this. 

Lilith had her head turned away, ‘meditating’. Funny, she wasn’t doing that a few seconds ago.

“You got bad, Jin. After the Mass, you got bad. We left for a reason. You were a mean guy.” She met his eyes, hoping for understanding. 

Jin stared back at her; there was no comprehensive emotion to be read on his face. “Is that how you see things?” 

“Isn’t that how we all saw you?” 

Ava got up onto her knees, now facing Jin. As comfortable as she was, she felt the need to properly sit.

“I just don’t think you ever really liked me in the first place.” Jin turned his gaze away from her.

“Not a lot, but I DIDN’T dislike you.” Ava shrugged weakly, a mix of soreness and uneasiness. 

“Everything I did, I wanted to do it for all of you.” 

“I’m sure you believe that.” Ava resigned.

Lilith finally turned to the two of them. 

“Would you two cut it out, please?” she was stern, frustrated. “We don’t get a single thing out of arguing now, do we?” 

“GOOOOOOOD MORNINGGGGG AMERICA!!!” Jack shouted from the far end of the room. 

He was making strides towards the middle of the massive room, swinging his marotte back and forth in his hand as he did. Life drained out of the room with his presence, all the fighters quieted down. 

“You all look terrible today, like some real messes.” He stopped short of the first cells. 

He took one step onto a bench and another up onto one of the tables that sat on the far end of the room, away from the cells. Striking his marotte down butt-first on the steel tabletop, it rang out. 

“MAKE SOME NOISE!” 

…

Only three of the fighters banged on their cell walls: Zion, Mika, and Ezekiel. 

“Wow, dis-a-fucking-pointing, guys. It’s almost as if you’re forced to be here or something.” He made himself laugh.

All cell doors came buzzing open without warning, letting them free if they wished to walk out with the exception of Ezekiel, whose door remained closed.  

“It’s lunch time, then we can finish the last fights of the day. Doesn’t that sound delightful?” 

Jack jumped down off the table, walking backwards to where he came from. 

Jin and the other two in the cell made their ways out and towards where they saw the rest going. Every one of them headed towards there, with the exception of Zion, who would enter another beside his. 

Zion stood over the cruel-looking hyena of a man. He kicked his leg once, not all that hard. 

The man remained asleep.

Zion kicked him a little bit harder.

The man remained asleep. 

Zion looked to his left, then to his right. Once he was sure the coast was clear, he punted his side. 

“I FELT YOU THE FIRST TIME, FUCKWAD! LET ME SLEEP!” 

Zion shrugged, walking out of the cell and to have lunch with the rest of the fighters. 

Making his way to where they served the food, Jin took one good look at it before turning away. It was brown slop, with some side of browner slop, and a carton of milk on the side, as if that justified the state of the goop they used for meat.
Lilith grabbed the carton of milk only, passing on the food. She joined Jin at his table. 

Ava took the tray, regardless of how much it disgusted her. She needed to eat something now, there was nothing that sugary on the tray. All she could hope was that the milk would suffice. Looking at Jin and Lilith, she considered it for half a second before brushing it away, taking a seat at a table away from them and all on her lonesome. 

Her eyes stayed glued to the shining aluminium table she had placed her tray on. She was thinking. It was more thinking than she had had to do for a long time. Ava had never wanted to go back to cutting hair so badly before. She escaped this shit, she didn’t think they’d find a way to drag her back in. And, maybe she just wanted to believe Jin could change. The only positive is that Tadashi wasn’t here. Having to deal with Jin was already enough. 

She blinked, then looked down. The carton was crushed in her hand, empty. When did she finish it? Placing it down on the tray, all she could do was sigh. Looking up and around, Lucian was glaring at her from his table. She didn’t like that sight, going back to looking at her table instead, that was much nicer. 

Jin and Lilith were eating in silence; there wasn’t much more conversation to be had between the two. They were interrupted by the foreign woman who sat across from him. He remembered her as Mika. It was hard to forget her name with Ezekiel screaming it constantly. He noticed her staring at him on occasion; he didn’t think she’d come talk to him now. 

She looked at Lilith first, before speaking. Lilith caught absolutely none of it. As much as she enjoyed the Purple Lotus, she did not speak Japanese.
“What did you say? I don’t speak Japanese, sorry.”

“She says she wants to know what my Manifest is,” Jin translated from what he caught. 

He was still rusty. His father was teaching him, but once that stopped, he started to grow unfamiliar. He needed to start learning again when he got out of here.

Mika leaned forward on the table, getting closer to Jin’s face as she spoke once again. Her eyes scanned over him, but not with any negative emotion, only intrigue.

He caught even less of it this time. All he got out of it was ‘his power, interesting’

“Not that you can understand what I’m saying, but I don’t have a Manifest.” Jin wasn’t sure why the girl had taken an interest in him suddenly. 

Shrill scratch,

“DUMBASSES AND DUMBAS—is there a female version of dumbass?” Jack’s voice faded near the end of his sentence, seemingly turning away from the mic. 

There was a response that came from a woman, it was hard to make out. Jack responded a little louder, muffled. That turned into Jack and the woman bickering with each other for a few seconds. 

“Awh, screw it—Mika, Ezekiel, get your asses out here! The show’s gotta go on.”

Mika stood up, stepping back from the table. 

“YOU’RE NEXT, KAMIKAZE! I’M GOING TO FUCK YOU RAW, YOU SLUT!” Ezekiel smashed his fists against the cell door, spittle flying from his mouth. His eyes rolling, veins bulging at his temple.

Chapter Text

“GAYDIES AND LETTLEMEN, we are back from break. It’s been violent, blood-pumping, and thrilling up to this point, but I can promise you that it only gets better! You’ll want to watch this next one close, because up first we have the strongest fighter in raw power yet. INTRODUCING FIRST: the soul-tether hoarder, the ruthless, tenacious, unforgiving—can’t-wait-his-turn—THE BOY WHO GAVE IT ALL, EZEKIEL MERCER!” 

Ezekiel stepped out from the shutters, running his hand through his hair. He drew in sharp, excited breaths. “ABOUT TIME, JACK. GIVE ME THAT STUPID JAP AND MAKE IT QUICK!” 

Jack smiled at him, his eyes narrowed slightly. 

“And his opponent, fighting here for the first time: the tissue former, MIKA KITAGAWA!”

There was a confused smile on the face of the woman as she stepped out into the lights, taking a look at the crowd. That smile shifted slightly once she laid eyes on Ezekiel, going from confused to amused. 

A wedding band formed around the finger of the woman, her irises turning a blazing red. Raising from the ground behind her was this flesh wall, blood running down the strands of muscle, between the hundreds of different shaped eyes and mouths on it. The mouths—filled with their razor-sharp teeths—whispered. The language they whispered in was not made by humans. They were words, but sounded like gibberish. The eyes were looking around frantically, rolling back into their sockets, looking at Mika herself, the crowd, anywhere they could. Once completely out, it was massive, a foot taller than her six-foot-two body, and even wider by a few feet. 

“It seems the new girl has a wall of flesh! How horrifying and EXCITING!” Alicia called. 

“That is grotesque, but I understand why she’s Jack’s favourite now. He’s always loved walls of flesh.” Ianiara finally spoke up. She had hardly commented until now. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jack’s voice was muffled, having turned his head to Ianira. 

“Either dead bodies or naked women, I think.” 

“It means you like pussy. You eat pussy.” There was almost a laugh in her voice, almost. 

Ezekiel had been enchanted by her Manifest; he was staring at it like it was beautiful. 

Two arms formed from his abdomen, made of a white energy that matched his eye. One extra arm hovered beside his head. 

“I’ve waited long enough. I’m fucking this bitch to hell and back.” With that, he set off towards Mika 

She reached back, her hand sinking into the flesh wall. Her hand dug deep inside, pulling out of the wall slowly and with force. 

It kept coming: first the handle, then the hilt, and then the blade which went on and on until she had completely pulled it out. She held a Greatsword in both of her hands, one that was larger than even her. The Greatsword was made of the same hardened flesh as her wall, eyes and mouths covered it. 

Ezekiel stepped twice on the same leg and suddenly he appeared in front of Mika, transporting himself. He slammed his hand into her cheek, going completely through it and into her mouth. He gripped her jaw and used his hold to throw her, sending her soaring. 

Mika went through the air until she hit the sloped wall, denting it inwards with the force of her body. She bled from the hole in her cheek, the entire lower left side of her face stained. 

“And the new girl gets absolutely thrashed! Not a good look for you, Pearl Harbour!” 

She stood up, her grip on the Greatsword tightening. 

Ezekiel rushed towards her again, stepping twice, he appeared in front of her. Both of his hands came out to slam into her chest. Mika stepped to the side expectantly this time, the sword came up and severed both of his physical arms in one clean motion. 

Ezekiel screamed, slamming his foot into the ground, turning. 

Mika brought the sword back, her eyes focused on him. She swung the sword, spinning with the swing. 

Ezekiel stepped twice, transporting behind her. He lunged forwards at her. 

Mika completed the swing.

Ezekiel barely missed her. His head came flying off.

The crowd erupted into a symphony of cheers and claps that filled the stands.  

“AND IN JUST THREE EXCHANGES, MIKA KITAGAWA FINISHES HER OPPONENT!” 

Her Manifest unformed as Ezekiel’s head hit the ground, his body collapsing lifelessly and skidding on the ground. Mika walked over to the head, leaning down and gripping his hair, lifting his head up. She showed it off to the crowd, before finally stopping to show it to Alicia and her co-commentators. 

“Are you satisfied, or not?” Mika said in perfect English.

“She can do that?” Alicia’s voice peaked. 

“Apparently.” 

<><> 

Jin and the others watched the screen as Mika stepped out of the pit. There was a general look of shock on their faces. They were allowed to kill people here? And, she was going to the next round with Ava and Lilith.

“Is it too late to pull out?” Ava chewed on her lip, sighing.

“We have faced worse." Lilith reassured herself.

“It is too late, and no, we haven’t.” Jin was leaning against the cell door.

Jack entered the middle of the pit to start announcing the next fight. It got Jin to walk back over and crouch down beside the two. “This is the special guest, right? Then comes me.”

“Can’t wait to see what tricks you have up your sleeves.”

“Not up my sleeves, but I do have a few tricks in my sleeves.”

“What does that mean?” Ava turned to look at him.

“Juuust focus on the fight for now.” He pointed at the screen.

With that, all of them refocused on Jack, watching as he announced the fighters.

“INTRODUCING FIRST: the dance party destructor, the jiving Jenova, THE PARTY ANIMAL, DANIEL BLACKWELL!”  

The cruel-looking hyena came strutting out of the darkness and into the light. He popped the fur collar of his coat, ripping it off and tossing it up. The coat swayed in the air, falling behind him.

“ANDDDDDD, presenting to you: the runner-up of last year’s tournament, the gambling general, the betting bombardier, BIG LUCK HIMSELF, TADASHI IWAI!”

“This fucker,” Jin spat at the screen.

“Of course he’s here.” Ava’s eye twitched.

“It would be nice if he told us he’d be here, or about this at all.” Lilith wasn’t too surprised at this point.

Tadashi stepped out, wearing the same outfit they had last seen him in. How long had he been intending to show up here? Did he know that they were here? Jin felt his blood curdling.

“Would you like to activate luc—” His dice would begin to form.

“H-H-HELL NO!” Tadashi dismissed his Manifest before it fully formed.

Daniel watched this, gritting his teeth. “You shouldn’t underestimate me, second place. Tonight, you’re getting unlucky.” 

He stretched his arms, eyes turning yellow and a disco ball forming above the two of them. His disco ball was spinning slowly to start.

Tadashi brought his index finger to his lips in a shushing motion. “Shhhh, you’re going to choke on those words if you keep going.”

“Here we are again, folks. You know exactly who they are, SO FUCK THE BREAKDOWN! LET’S WATCH THESE BOYS FIGHT!” Alicia slammed her hand, the most excited she had been.

Both men ran at each other in tandem, about the same speed in their current states. Daniel planted his hand down, kicking up off the ground. His leg came up and down in an arch, the kick aimed right at Tadashi’s head. Tadashi went low, baseball sliding and skimming the kick just barely, ending up behind him. He pushed off towards him, sending a kick right to the back of his head.

In one fluid motion, Daniel swayed his body underneath the kick, his body completing a rotation. The heel of his foot connected with Tadashi’s jaw. Tadashi’s head snapped back, taking a step and refocusing.

Daniel continued to move fluidly, a perfect mix of dance and fighting.

The strike didn’t faze Tadashi for long, going right back on the attack. “You know what your issue is, Daniel? It’s that your opponent is me.”

Tadashi rushed in with a wild swing that was ducked under. Daniel planted his hand again, bringing his foot up only to be met with Tadashi thrusting a shoulder into him. He was sent off his hands, twisting in the air and landing on his feet. 

Tadashi slammed a fist into his stomach without a second wasted, winding him. He followed up with two jabs to the face before tossing a violent overhand.

“You’re just flashy, no real substance!”

Daniel landed on his back, placing his hands behind him. He transitioned his kip-up into a double-legged front dropkick to Tadashi’s chest. Tadashi dug his heels into the ground, taking the full force of the dropkick all so he could drive his fist into Daniel’s stomach while he was still in the air. He was sent to the ground, Tadashi’s hand digging into his stomach. 

The disco ball began to spin quicker, noticeable to anyone who was looking at it. Daniel’s nails grew longer, sharper—the same effect happening to his teeth, which now sharpened to fangs.

Reaching up and digging into Tadashi’s forearm, he curled his body upwards and wrapped his legs around Tadashi’s entire arm. Daniel used his body weight and grip on Tadashi to pull him up, over, and crashing right to the ground. They both scrambled up at the same time.. 

“The two no-lives seem to have met a standstill, it could go any which way.” Alicia made sure to add.

“If Tadashi would use his Manifest, this would be more entertaining,” Jack sounded frustrated.

“You wouldn’t have much of a show left to entertain, remember last time?” Ianira corrected.

The two of them went right back to it. There wasn’t a moment of reprieve between them. Daniel was at a clear advantage with his Manifest, his claws cutting through Tadashi’s jacket and all over him as they went.

His foot came darting towards Tadashi’s face. Tadashi slammed his forehead into the kick, reaching up and grabbing Daniel’s ankle before it was pulled back. He ripped his leg forward, causing him to land with one leg in front of him and the other behind him, in a complete split.

Tadashi reeled his leg back before absolutely punting Daniel’s head like a soccer ball. The blood gushed spectacularly out of his nose like a waterfall.

Daniel rolled his way back up, holding his nose with one hand. He was a good distance back, taking a moment to snap out of his daze. “B-BASTARD!”

“Hah, you gave me a good minute there, Daniel.” Tadashi cranked his neck. “But you’re a one-trick pony. That might work for someone on your level, but I figured you out now.”

He stepped forward before taking another step, he was taking his time approaching Daniel.

“The gap between us is so large, you can’t even see the side I’m on. My worst days are your best.”

“Is that right, Iwai? Then let’s turn up the volume, this is a party after all.” 

The disco ball above them started to spin a lot quicker, triple the speed it had been before. The skin on the side of his head stretched, his entire side stretched the same way. A second Daniel pulled itself out of the original body. The doubles stood side by side now.

“And this party needs a two-man act.”

“You think that makes a difference? I’m winning this entire tournament, last time was a fluke.”

Tadashi brought his hand up simply, gesturing for the two of them to come at him.

Both Daniels ran at him in unison, moving the same fluid way.

 “If Tadashi could hardly keep up with one of them, it looked like it was going to be hard to deal with two.” Alicia instigated. 

The original Daniel swung his body, his shin coming to meet Tadashi’s nose. At the same time the double swept low to the ground, spinning twice as he tried to take Tadashi’s legs out from under him.

Tadashi stomped the double’s ankle like a bug, playing Limbo with the original Daniel’s leg. It passed far above his head, clearing the game with ease. Coming back up, he saw Daniel going for a second kick.

He stepped backward, from just avoiding the kick he started sliding backwards.

“Groovy.” He grinned at the frustrated Daniel.

The double’s ankle had been shattered under the force of Tadashi’s stomp, taking time to get up. Meanwhile, the original Daniel lunged for Tadashi. He lost all fluidity and class. Tadashi grabbed his jacket, ripping it off and tossing it directly at Daniel’s face. Completely blinded, he whiffed right past Tadashi, who had sidestepped him. From the sidestep, Tadashi crossed his legs, doing a complete spin. “WOO!” he yelled, full of excitement. 

Daniel tore Tadashi’s jacket to pieces out of frustration. His breaths were heavy with anger and exhaustion.

Tadashi was bopping to the song playing in his head, bringing his hands out in front of him in Daniel’s direction. He pulled on an imaginary rope connected to Daniel, wiggling his shoulders playfully.

“Let’s get funky, baby.” 

“And you doubted him, Jack?” Ianira glanced over at Jack.

“That was my mistake. I clearly forgot who we were dealing with.” Jack couldn’t be smiling wider.

“Zip his pants up when you’re done. We’re the Jackshow, not the Fagshow.” Alicia was laughing.

Daniel’s double finally brought itself up, rushing towards Tadashi and tossing a desperate punch. Tadashi hadn’t stopped pulling on the imaginary rope until he had to bend forward to avoid the punch. The double didn't get far, Tadashi grabbed its hand tightly and pulled it right back towards him. He grabbed the wrist on its other arm, spinning with it. He danced with the double, its already shattered ankle only being worsened by the dancing.

Tadashi kept this up until he let go of the double’s hand, bending backward to avoid the headbutt it threw. He jut one leg out, his arm wrapped around its neck. He was now looking up at the camera.

“HEY JIN!” He grinned.

Completely wrapping his arm around its neck, he drove the double’s head right into the concrete. Its head crunched on the concrete, the body going limp.

Daniel got to him by the time he started to get up, reeling his hand back and throwing a punch at his face. Tadashi launched a kick straight upward, slamming his sneaker into Daniel’s fist and deflecting it.

Before Daniel could think about his next move, Tadashi slapped both of his ears simultaneously with his palms. Sending his leg up, he kicked him in the testicles very hard. He waited for Daniel to bend forward before driving his elbow into the back of his head. The trifecta left Daniel on the ground, unconscious.

The party was over.

“AND WE HAVE OUR WINNER, THE GAMBLER, TADASHI IWAI!” Alicia clapped.

Tadashi brushed his hands off, smiling up at the camera once more. He blew it a kiss before starting to walk to the back. 

<><>

Tadashi made sure to take his sweet time getting to the cell that contained his friends. He did eventually make it, though. He took a look around, no sign of Jin in the cell or pit, he must’ve left just as Tadashi arrived.

He stopped in the middle of the cell, both Lilith and Ava gave him the obvious cold shoulder. Ava doing it didn’t surprise him much, but it had to be bad if even Lilith wasn’t talking.

Ava picked at her nails, eyes narrowed, faintly twitching. She was barely hiding her irritation.

“I missed you, Ava. It’s been a while.” Tadashi hoped to break the awkwardness.

She looked at Tadashi, her face mostly emotionless, though she couldn’t completely hide her distaste for him at the moment. “How surprising. What isn’t surprising is the fact that you haven't changed—at all.”

Tadashi’s eyebrows furrowed, it wasn’t like he didn’t get why she was mad, but they knew him. They should’ve expected this.

“I see you guys are hurt. For the record, I don’t have a good excuse.” He shrugged.

That was met with silence from Ava. Lilith was still deciding to completely ignore him.

“Well, don’t talk to me if you don’t want to. But you should know that it’ll probably be me and you fighting next time, Ava. So forfeit before we start. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“And what happens if I forfeit?” Ava sounded as annoyed as she looked, it was more than Tadashi. She was annoyed at all of them. Tadashi really couldn’t have warned them?

“If I say nothing, will you forfeit?” It was hard to tell if he was being genuine.

Ava let out an agitated sigh, turning to look back at the TV. She’d rather lose at this point, at least she might get to hit him a few times.

“If you forfeit, you get punished badly. You do not want to do that.” Dante spoke up.

“That is a fucking lie,” He sounded offended.

“I trust him more than I trust you. I’ll take my chances.” She jabbed at Tadashi, forcing a petty smile.

“Alright, Ava.”

<><>

“If that last match wasn’t a show of dominance, I don’t know what is. Our next contest will be much more technical. That is because, COMING OUT OF THE LEFT SHUTTER: you know him, you know him well, he finishes fights quick, the boy with no name, the bruised bruiser, JD!”

The young fighter would step out from his shutter—he was ignoring the crowd, in his own world.

“AND ON THE OTHER END, we have ourselves an anomaly: a Manifestless maggot, disadvantaged from birth, and the guaranteed loser, JIN USHINATTA!”

Jin was adjusting his tie to be looser as he walked out. The introduction didn’t bother him all that much. He was far too focused on the fight, bringing his hands up.

“Alicia, bets?” Jack looked down at her.

“I dunno, Jack, this is a tough one!” She was clearly being sarcastic.

“I meant how long Jin will last.”

“Hopefully long enough for things to get fun.” The two laughed.

Bruises would form across JD’s upper left face, what Jin could only assume was his Manifest.

The sight of his Manifest made Jin’s face sneer in disgust. “Of course, you can’t go a second without using your crutches.”

“ALLLLRIGHT folks! In one corner, we have a Manifestless yellow-skin, and in the other, a retarded skin-head. This is the fight of the Axis powers!” She chuckled to herself.

“I will cut commentary out if you keep that up. We have Japanese viewers here, and we have… less capable people here.” Ianira got quieter with the last bit.

Alicia fought with all her force not to laugh, having to move on. “LET THE SLAUGHTER BEGIN!”

JD was already across the pit and in Jin’s face, moving quickly yet at a human speed.

Jin slipped his head to the side for the jab thrown at him, responding with a hook.

JD ducked his head underneath the hook, tilting his body to the side and launching an uppercut.

Jin tilted out of the way, stumbling back momentarily.

They brought their legs up at the same time, snapping kicks at each other’s chests.

Both men stumbled back, having reached no real progress with their first exchange.

“What an impressive show of reflex from both men.” Alicia watched closer.

JD brought his hands up closer, a more tight form as he switched his footing—now more akin to an orthodox boxing stance. 

Jin brought his right leg out past his body by a few inches along with his hand, his left leg sticking closer to his body, both knees bent slightly, his left hand beside his cheek. He assumed a proper Muay Thai stance in response.

The both of them read for any movements, circling with a calculated and patient intent. 

Jin stepped forward with a sudden burst of speed, bringing his shin up and whipping it at JD’s head.

JD weaved under the kick, taking two sharp steps forward and snapping a cross at Jin’s throat.

Jin slapped his hand away. He moved forward, switching his dominant foot. Throwing a vicious knee towards JD’s side, one that narrowly missed as the two men passed each other. Turning, Jin was just able to get his forearm up to block a rear hook, shooting a teep to distance JD.

There was another break in their exchange.

“Oh! And he just BARELY blocks it! How unfortunate for our Manifestless friend.”

Jin looked down at the forearm he had used to block, there was an abnormal amount of pain there. He noticed the blood leaking through his dress shirt, staining the white cotton a deep red. He couldn’t get a read on what JD’s Manifest was yet. It threw Jin off, maybe enhanced strength? There wasn’t much time to think about it, he tugged his head to the side. He barely avoided a jab thrown by JD, his knuckle grazing Jin’s cheek.

Blood splattered from his cheek, a gash being created from the light contact. Jin grit his teeth as he took another step back, seeing the faint smile on JD’s face. Touching his cheek curiously, he didn’t think it was strength anymore.

“It also seems our Manifestless friend has weak skin if a graze did that.”

Jin tightened the stance for a moment before relaxing it with a deep breath out. There was a thought. He slipped his suit blazer off and placed it down on the ground softly, moving to his sleeves and rolling them up carefully. His eyes moved to his reddened forearm; the skin was cut like his cheek. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath in, then opened them. “Hm.”

He reached down and picked up his suit blazer once more. “Come on then, show me more.”

JD moved forward once more, waiting a moment before he threw a hard overhand.

Jin threw the blazer directly at his face.

JD’s fist went through the blazer, punching a hole in the fabric.

Jin had slipped under it, coming up and putting his body into an uppercut.

JD’s body was blasted back, the skin and flesh on his chin disintegrated off.

Jin almost chuckled, laughing with his exhale. “Not invincible, not that hard, got it.” Reassuming a tight stance, he got the general idea of the Manifest. It was a sort of damage amplification that both of them were victim to.

“Nice distraction from Jin! I wonder how long that will last, though. JD seems to be pretty upset.”

“I’m not sure, he seems to have regained his confidence,” Ianira commented.

“Confidence, or is it delusion?” Jack chipped in.

“Well if it's delusion, then we finally found your match.”

“Hardy har har, shut up, bitch,” he did sound amused.

The two men reengaged with each other, once again circling patiently.

JD was the first to make a move, checking him with a jab once more. Jin parried the jab, countering with a rear hook directly to his cheek. JD leaned back out of the way, his stance completely shifting within a second as he threw a hard kick directly to Jin’s completely exposed side.

Jin gushed blood, he was short of breath and struggling to stay standing from the blow. He should’ve seen the kick coming—JD used a front kick earlier. This wasn’t boxing, it was kickboxing.

It took Jin a moment to reevaluate the situation. The change in fighting style from JD threw his plan completely off. It took him only two seconds to think of something new. Reaching up to his loosened tie, he slipped it off easily. He grabbed the tie with both hands, wrapping each end around his palms to get a tight grip. He pulled it hard, using it as a makeshift garotte.

JD seemed to be aggravated by this. “Weak man, weak weapon.” His voice was hoarse, throat sounding scorched.

Jin didn’t give him a response, rushing forward towards him with little skill in mind.

JD threw an obvious jab. Jin wrapped the garotte around his wrist, slamming his back into JD.

 Jin was right where he wanted him. He reeled his fist back and sent it right for Jin’s already injured side.

What hadn’t been expected was Jin twisting his body more than a man of his size should be able to, narrowly avoiding the punch at the cost of worsening his already injured side. Fighting back the scream, Jin smiled at JD. Jin’s shoulder was digging into his armpit.

“Let’s see how bad this is for you.” Jin ripped the garotte downwards, along with JD’s wrist.

What would traditionally be a dislocation at worst turned into his entire left arm bone ripping out of his skin and out into the open. The scream that escaped the boy scraped against the walls of the pit.

“HOLY SHIT! DID YOU FUCKING SEE THAT!?” Alicia was laughing her ass off.

“That does make for good TV.” Jack was smiling.

“For you first timers or people who are confused, JD’s Manifest amplifies the damage dealt and taken to him and his opponent over time! MEANING, the longer this fight plays out, the more fucked they’ll be!”

The arm bone hung out of JD’s arm, kept in only by the fact that his wrist and hand were intact. It was there, like a branch sticking out of a tree.

“You carry the false fortitude of a little dog.” JD brought his hand to the bone, pulling on it hard. There was resistance there, struggling for a moment before the threads tore and his entire arm bone was ripped free. He was screaming wildly through this entire process, his voice almost completely gone. The skin suit of what was once a solid arm now flapped beside him, blood and flesh spilling out of it.

“Don’t make me hurt you anymore, kid.” Jin had removed his shirt, wrapping it around his forearm completely, padding it.

JD ran his hand across his face. As his hand trailed across it, the bruises that once covered only a quarter of his face fully covered it now. He was almost unrecognizable under all the bruises. “Time to end this.”

“I can’t tell who’s going to win, but someone is about to win,” Jack announced.

Jin got the sense that was bad for him. He looked around for a second before fixing his gaze on the bone. It was a last resort, but he couldn’t risk losing now.

Breaking out into a sprint for the bone, JD followed close behind him. He didn’t have time to think about how he was going to do this, he went with pure instinct.

Jin slowed down for a moment until JD was close enough to lunge at him. Jin rolled forward and grabbed a hold of the bone, raising it up into the air. JD dove over Jin who was now low to the ground, his knee smashed into the humerus, breaking it with the amplified damage and shattering his own knee.

He rolled on the ground roughly, turning himself mid-roll and digging his nails into the ground to stop his momentum from sending him any further, tearing them from his fingers.

Jin stood up, the shattered and sharp bone in his hand. “You’re right about things needing to end. Just forfeit, I don’t want to kill a kid.”

“Not until I finish you.” His voice was worse off than how it started, his vocal cords destroyed.

“Ok, I’m sorry.” Jin slammed the sharp end of the bone down into his own thigh.

Tearing and sawing into his own thigh muscle, he ripped open a gash that was a few inches wide.

The entire commentary team watched, dumbfounded.

“Are we sure he doesn’t have a Manifest?” Ianira whispered.

“Maybe he’s like you?” Jack sounded unconfident.

JD forced himself back up, having only one functioning knee to stand on. The other one kept almost buckling under his weight. He couldn’t put any pressure on it. He forced himself forward towards Jin.

Jin threw the humerus across the arena. His body came low, one hand on his thigh and the other up near his face. He needed JD close, at least within range.

JD practically fell into the punch towards Jin, sending himself flying.

Jin brought the padded arm up. The shirt would take the brunt of the damage, but not enough. Blood came spraying from Jin’s arm, the punch sending it back violently.

He slammed his fingers into his thigh wound and dug deep inside, ripping it open. Pulling his hand out of his thigh, he brought his hand beneath JD’s chin.

POP

The top of JD’s head opened like a flower, fragments of skull and flesh flying out of the kid’s head. He was dead before his body even hit the ground. What was left inside his head spilled out onto the concrete floor.

The crowd was completely silent for the first time all night. The commentary team was silent.

“HE PUT A GUN INSIDE OF HIS THIGH!?”

The entire crowd erupted into a hailstorm of bloodthirsty cheers.

“WE HAVE OUR WINNER, MANIFESTLESS JIN!” She cheered, but quickly put an intermission in. “Someone please take the gun from him, thank you~!”

The mini revolver slipped out of his palm and hit the floor with a wet thud, laying in the pool of blood. It was lightly coated in plastic wrap. He had been keeping it there for god knows how long.

“I won...” Jin couldn’t take his eyes off the lifeless ones beneath him. They were no older than seventeen.

<><> 

Jin went right for the cell, neglecting to get care for any of his wounds. His thigh was bleeding badly, he knew to avoid any arteries or vital points, but that only did so much. 

Entering, Tadashi was the obvious target. He reached down and grabbed him by the collar, lifting him with his good hand and slamming him into the wall roughly.

“Woah! Aren’t you a little hurt? Why don’t you sit down and get some rest?” Tadashi coughed, smirking. 

“How long did you know!?” He slammed him into the wall harder, the wall shaking. 

Lilith looked over at Ava for a moment, pushing her lips together. She made her way over slowly, not in too much of a rush to help Tadashi. 

Tadashi was completely grinning. “Well, if you’d calm your tits, you might realize I helped you get close to this stupid case. Just left you a surprise, clearly you like those.” His eyes shifted down to Jin’s thigh. 

Ava turned her head away from them, looking out of the cell. She never wanted to be around these two at the same time again, especially when they were mad at each other.  

Jin slammed his fist into Tadashi’s nose, turning and throwing him to the ground. 

His nose was bleeding badly. The punch had nothing held back.

“Beating your brother? That’s low, even for you, Jushi.” Tadashi was still smiling.

“You’re not my brother,” Jin’s voice cracked on the last word.

Lilith moved quickly, placing a hand on his chest.

“How about we talk about this as adults and not fight each other? This will not get us anywhere.” 

“There’s no talking with this addict. CORRUPT! I should have known he was corrupt!”

Lilith stopped Jin as he tried to move forward again, her hand on his chest digging into him. 

“If you really think beating some sense into him will work, it won’t. You know that better than any of us, Jin.” 

“What did you expect, Jin? You knew exactly what I did in those three years. I didn’t hide anything from you. You thought you’d come back and I’d be normal again? You really are delusional.” Tadashi still smirked.

“I EXPECTED YOU TO BE WITH ME!” Jin screamed at him, past Lilith. 

“YOU BLEW ME IN HALF, JIN!” Tadashi struggled not to laugh at the absurdity. “YOU BLEW ME IN HALF BECAUSE OF A MISTAKE I MADE!” 

“YOU KILLED YOUR PARENTS!” Jin pushed against Lilith harder.

That got Tadashi to stand up, walking towards Jin. He wasn’t smiling anymore.

Lilith pushed the two of them harder, trying to keep them apart. 

Ava hummed loudly, hoping that would get them to stop.  

“I didn’t kill them. That wasn’t on me. Fuck, EVEN IF IT WAS, THEY WERE HORRIBLE!” 

“You know what I hate most about you? You’re so ungrateful… YOU HAD A DAD!

“Oh, here we go again—‘Waa Waa, my dad is dead. Look guys, my dad is dead. Do you feel bad for me yet?’ AT LEAST WHEN I’M BAD, I’M ENOUGH OF A MAN TO KNOW IT’S A FAULT!”

The entire room went silent. It was quiet enough to hear even the slightest change in breath. 

“I hate you. If you died right now, I would be happy,” Jin spat. 

“There we go, let it all out, you useless prick.” Tadashi glanced at Ava and Lilith before settling back on Jin. “I’m happy we can’t find Osuke, You ruined our brother once, and you would do it again.” 

The silence between them sat uncomfortably, it suffocated the entire room. Neither Ava nor Lilith knew what to do. No one in that room knew what they were doing.
Shrill scratch,

“Did you guys know that we can hear in the rooms?” Jack’s draining voice again. “You know what? We can put this anger to much better use. Ava, Tadashi, why don’t you come out here now?” 

“Gladly.” Tadashi walked over to the cell door. 

Ava didn’t even look at the rest, leaving. 

<><>

Ava couldn’t hear the introductions being made—more, she didn’t want to. She zoned it out, leaving herself with her racing thoughts. They were all competing to see which one would be the first to make her implode. The argument hadn’t helped. Was there a reason she thought things would be different? Really, why did she approach them at the carnival? She had been wondering to herself since they got here, why would she do that to herself? And then Tadashi, she didn’t want to think about Tadashi. Thinking about Tadashi meant thinking about Victoria. She hoped Victoria was off doing something better with her life, she hoped Victoria was happy. She deserved to be happy. She wished she could be happy with anyone.

The shutter doors came open, letting the blue lights flood into the once-dark hallway, illuminating her and prompting her to step out of the hallway. Tadashi had already been brought out. Him and his stupid evil face. 

She felt bad for him, she felt bad about the argument. Sure, she didn’t like him that much, but he was… was he? She didn’t know what he was anymore. 

“You know, it’s as easy as saying you forfeit. Really, Ava, you don’t want to be part of this either way, there’s no need for this fight.” There was his dumb smile, but like in the cell, it seemed genuine. 

Ava stared at him. She wasn’t sure he was being genuine. He was a prick, she wouldn’t say Jin was right, though. Jin was not right about anything ever. As much as she tried to build herself up to do it, she couldn’t. 

Ava’s hands came up in a surrendering motion, forfeiting the match. Punishment was better than this. 

Alicia audibly laughed into the microphone, inhaling deeply. “Tadashi.” 

Tadashi looked over at Alicia, then back at Ava. His head came back, staring at the ceiling. It was only for a few seconds before he brought his head back down. 

“I forfeit too.” He brought his hands up the same as Ava. 

Ava blinked. It took her a second to process that he gave up winning the tournament just to avoid fighting her. Her eyes moved to the ground. She could feel her teeth clenching incredibly hard. Any harder and they would shatter into little pieces. She couldn’t stand them; she hated them. They were cruel, and mean, and impulsive, and selfish, and violent, and decent. She didn’t hate them. She hated what they did to her friends. Jin and Tadashi were her friends. They did have fun, and they did laugh, and they did care. They used to care about her. She didn’t think they could anymore, not Jin, and especially not Tadashi. All it took was one nice gesture for everything to come flooding back, and like that, she didn’t want to hate him anymore. 

Jack and Alicia were not quite as at peace with this as Ava and Tadashi were. Alicia was practically foaming at the mouth behind the mic, fighting not to say something. 

Jack took the mic from Alicia before she could speak, there was a bizarrely wide smile on his face. “Thank you to the two down there for the motivation. Surprise, folks, we’ve decided to make this fight a three-way.” 

Jack whispered something to Alicia, something which got her dark and crude soul to smile genuinely. With that, she skipped off to the back while Jack brought the mic to his lips. 

“You know, folks, sometimes I feel like our fights lack a certain level of depth and emotional weight. Up until now, things have been alright. I mean, who doesn’t love a good underdog story, right? And that little sugar slag in front of me, she’s so weak that she has to be the perfect underdog. Tadashi Iwai, I mean, I really want to like you, but you’re just an absolute manky git. You know what, there’s only one fighter in your pathetic little pack that makes me really want to sit forward. The kind of guy who gives me chills, thrills, and something else that rhymes. Someone who makes me want to pull out my dick and do a quickie.”  

“Please don’t pull your dick out right now.” Ianira whispered into her microphone. 

Tadashi and Ava had turned to look at Jack, their reactions were mixed. Tadashi was somewhat amused and Ava was over it by now. Both of their attention pulled away by the shutter behind Tadashi opening, watching someone step out.

“AND THAT MAN IS THE KID KILLER, THE UNDERDOG OF UNDERDOGS, THE—” 

“Jin.” Her throat tightened. Of course it was Jin.

Chapter Text

He started to stir awake, a small breath slipping from between his lips. 

The room was dark, so it took his eyes a moment to adjust. Once they did, he remembered where he was. He hadn’t ever been in a messier room.

Papers scattered everywhere, all four corners of the wooden room were covered in sketches or finished drawings. He found one right under his head, that skinny shit must’ve placed it under his head while he was asleep. He scrunched the edge of the paper and flipped it around to read it. 

‘Reserved cock gobbler sleeping zone’—a very detailed phallus right there underneath the words.

He fought back his laughter, not wanting to wake the sleeping body beside him. It was so incredibly stupid. Now he had to look for the creator. He wasn’t asleep here, and he wasn’t standing beside the window of the wooden wall. Only one thing he could be doing then. The dim moonlight filtered in, making the floating dust visible. They had to clean up the treehouse soon, it was more than papers that littered the floor. There was a minefield of playing cards, poker chips, deconstructed computer bits, and sticks—all pieces of the three that called this place a second home.  

Standing up, he was careful not to brush the blanket off of the boy beside him, gently patting it around him so he could stay warm while asleep. He pushed through the curtains that covered the entrance to the tree house, and just like he expected, the little shit was outside smoking a cigarette. 

“Don’t we have school tomorrow? You should go back to sleep,” he murmured. He stopped right beside him, crossing his arms, and gently rubbing his biceps to warm against the fall breeze. 

“You sound like your sister when you wake up.” The boy laughed at him, albeit quietly. 

“Boring and mean?” 

“Yeah, exactly that.” He took a small drag of the cigarette again, holding it out afterwards. 

The cigarette was nearly done, only one third of it remaining. That didn’t stop Tadashi from taking it. 

“Osuke is still asleep, to no one’s surprise.” He chuckled under his frosted breath, taking a long drag.

“Let him sleep—it’ll take his mind off Otoya.” 

Both boys would lean forward on the railing that bordered the balcony of the treehouse, staring at the back of the quaint house in front of them. 

“You guys should adopt him. Osuke Ushinatta, that’s not a bad idea.” 

“Osuke Iwai sounds better.” 

“You know it doesn’t.” Tadashi glanced over at him. 

“Osuke Okazaki. Dude, isn’t it weird that they named all their kids O names? And they have an O surname?”
“I wouldn’t say weird. It’s a pretty nifty naming convention,” Tadashi shrugged.

“Osuke Okazaki, Otoya Okazaki, Oruha Okazaki,” he prattled on. 

By the time he was done, Tadashi finished with the cigarette, flicking it to the floor.

“Ok. Your dad’s name is Shin and your name is Jin. Are you seriously the one to be nagging here?”

“Wow, frick you, first of all. I think it’s a cool idea. He had his reasons, I’m sure.” Jin glanced back at the house in front of him. “Do you think he’s awake in there?”

“Yeah, probably in there fucking your mom.” 

Jin continued to look forward, not to acknowledge what he had said. 

“I wanna fuck your mom so bad.” 

Jin reached over and punched Tadashi’s bicep hard, digging into him. 

Tadashi yelped, scooting a few feet away from Jin as he wouldn’t stop digging. 

“Don’t talk about my mom that way, cock gobbler.” 

“Oh yeah, I’m supposed to be mad about that.” Tadashi furrowed his brows, making his way back beside Jin. “You know I’m not gay—how many women do I need to sleep with?” 

“No more, please, it's so embarrassing being friends with the school whore. I’ll have random girls come to me and ask where you are.” Jin brought a palm to his cheek, pushing his fingers into his hair.

“It wouldn’t be so embarrassing if you capitalized. Talk to some of the girls—get yourself a girlfriend.” 

“Really? Where’s your girlfriend… Tada.” 

“Don’t you fucking start.”

“Tada, Tada, Ta—”

Tadashi brought his hand back, launching it forward, nearly slapping the hair off Jin’s head. 

“Don’t let Cerys make that a thing. It’s Big Luck.” 

Jin was still rubbing the back of his head. “Big-fucking-Luck, do you realize how stupid that sounds?” 

“Whatever, Jushi.” 

Both of them couldn’t help but smile at the nickname, letting that enjoyment sit for a while.

Tadashi turned his head away from Jin eventually, looking back at Jin’s house. He thought about what Nanako was doing at home right now. He doubted his mom had come back yet, she said she would be back though. 

“Why don’t you invite Cerys here?” Jin snapped him out of his thoughts. 

“Nah, this is our place. The brothers’ tree house,” Tadashi responded quickly. 

“Right.” Jin tapped his finger on the rough surface of the railing, careful not to get a splinter. “So when are you telling her you like her?”  

“She knows I like her, we’re best friends.” Tadashi looked over at Jin, curiously. 

“Noooo, like… like—like like her” 

“Don’t start with this again.” Tadashi groaned. 

Jin was staring at him, not saying anything. He could see the cogs turning in there though.

“‘Oh, Tadashi, please come get me from my mansion at four in the morning—and I need you to catch me when I jump out of my window like Rapunzel. Ohhhhh pleaseeeee Tadashi.’” Jin raised the pitch of his voice high enough that it could constitute a dog whistle. 

“I don’t catch her when she jumps out of the window, I have a crash mat for her,” Tadashi muttered through gritted teeth. 

“There’s no way you don’t see what I’m seeing right now.” 

“We’ve just been friends since fifth grade. I’ve known her longer than you; you really think if we liked each other like that, it wouldn’t have happened by now?” 

“I really don’t get it, you’ll date and have sex with all these ugly girls, then you have the prettiest girl we know, right there, spending all her time with you.” Jin was poking Tadashi with his elbow. 

“It sounds like you’re projecting onto me, Jin. ‘Prettiest girl we know’—and I’m the one who likes her?” 

“‘Oh Tadashi, please carry me all the way to the park because I forgot my shoes and I don’t wanna hurt my feet on the asphalt. Ohhhh, will you please carr—” He was shut up by another crisp smack.

“Why are we even talking about Cerys right now?” Tadashi snapped at him.  

“I don’t know, I just remembered her.” 

“Ok, then why don’t we talk about someone else?” 

“Like who? You wanna talk about Thomas?” 

Tadashi just laughed at that idea. 

“How about we talk about Lyric.” 

Jin shook his head, not letting Tadashi start bullying the poor guy.  

“Ok, forget about literally anyone else. Why don’t we talk about us?” 

“Us? Is there an us I don’t know about?” Tadashi was getting that stupid smile on his face.

Jin returned to silence. 

“I loveeee you.” Tadashi started to lean in very slowly, closing his eyes. 

Jin still kept his silence. 

He came very close to where Jin was, opened his eyes, and saw no sweet, luscious prize in front of him. Looking over the railing, he saw that Jin had dropped down below. “Ouch.” 

He climbed down a few rungs, jumping to join Jin on the grass of his backyard. Stretching his legs and yawning. “What are we even doing?” 

Jin only gave him a shrug in response, starting to walk towards his house. 

“Jinnnn… what’s up?” Tadashi speed-walked after him, wrapping an arm around him to stop him. 

He held Jin, squeezing him and bringing his chin down on his shoulder. He shifted his eyes to look over at him. “Brotato… why are you going on mute?” 

“Do you think I can change, Tadashi?” Jin didn’t move out of Tadashi’s hold, looking over at him. 

Tadashi didn’t answer right away, looking at Jin’s house then back at him. 

“You are who you are, Jin.” He took a second to think. “Why are you asking?” 

“I just… I’d rather not tell you.” 

Tadashi bit down on his lip. 

“We all have our secrets, I have a pretty big one.”

“What is it?” Jin tilted his head, letting it sit on top of Tadashi’s. 

“I’m secretly in love with you.” 

“You don’t take anything seriously.” Jin groaned. Pulling out of Tadashi’s hold, he turned around to face him. “I won’t be here forever… you won’t be either.”

“That’s what’s worrying you?” 

“Somewhat, I guess. I want to know that the people I care about are protected. You see the news, there are Manifest killings all the time. And if I—”

“You’re thinking too much about it.” Tadashi brought his hand out, resting it on Jin’s shoulder. “You won’t die, I know you won’t die.” 

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Because I need you, Jin.”

The air blowing past them filled the absence of words. The two boys stared at each other, there were no other words that could be formed in that moment—none that would encapsulate what they were thinking. 

“If I’m not able to anymore, I need to know you’ll protect our friends.”

“Is this about her?” Tadashi tilted his head. 

“Maybe. She needs our help and we can’t do anything.” 

“I don’t think there’s much more we can do. If she doesn’t want help, she won’t get it. If she needs it, she’ll ask us.” Tadashi dug his fingers into Jin. 

“Sometimes you need to help people even when they refuse to acknowledge they need it.” 

“That’s just forcing yourself on people. You—we don’t have the ability to help people, it sure as shit isn’t our responsibility to help everyone.” 

“And if we did, then wouldn’t it be our responsibility? There are evil people—sick people in this world. And if we could do something about them, wouldn’t it be our responsibility?” 

“When did you get like this?” Tadashi didn’t realize how hard he was squeezing Jin. 

“You saw her laying there, crying on the bed. You see how Kelly talks about her. You know what her dad does. I need to help her, more than just her.” Jin’s breath was shaking, his eyes stuck to the grass. “I need you to be their protector, so I can be their monster.”

“I’m not that type of man.” Tadashi slid his hand off Jin. 

“If you really wanted, you could be.” 

There were no words exchanged between the two of them once again. It was a moment that stayed far past its welcome. 

“You really know how to make a fun night depressing.” Tadashi whispered under the wind. 

“Yeah, well, maybe you need to take things more seriously.”

“You just looked me in the eyes and said ‘I can be their monster.’ unironically." 

“It sounded a lot better in my head.” 

“I seriously doubt it did.”

Somewhere behind them, the cigarette was still burning.

Chapter Text

Jin stepped out into the pit. The bandages around his thigh and side were a rush job. His lack of shirt made the state of his body all the clearer, he was not in the condition for this, especially not immediately after the fight he just had.

“Jin, what are you doing?” Ava moved from around Tadashi.

“I’m sick of you, Tadashi. I’m sick of trying to put my faith in you. You keep disappointing me. Disappointing everyone around us. You hurt Lilith, you hurt Ava, and you really hurt me. I don’t believe this show for a second. ‘I forfeit’ my ass. you said it yourself in the cell, it’d be delusional to think you can change.”

His teeth weren’t just gritted, they were grinding against each other. His fury had never looked so violently real; the fire in his eyes turning into raging flames.

“Big Luck. Big Luck. I’ve always hated that stupid name. You’re a pathetic, self-centred loser. Me, Osuke, Cerys, we all excused your behaviour because we…” Jin stopped himself. 

“Alright, Jin. If this is what you really want, then I’ll give you it.” He brought his hand out a bit, stopping Ava who had moved forward. “I know you don’t want to be part of this, so don’t bother.” 

“Wasn’t going to. I was hoping to get through the shutters before they closed,” she grumbled.

With that, she backed up to the side of the platform all three of them stood on. Her arms crossed, and her butt planted on the ground. 

Jin began his approach towards Tadashi. There was a clear struggle in his left leg, the one he had cut into. His movements were less tight, even as he took a stance. 

The dice appeared beside Tadashi. It was wiped away before it even had a chance to chirp. 

Tadashi considered opening his mouth to say something. He didn’t get the chance before Jin’s shin came flying right towards his head. The kick was unbalanced, Jin having used his uninjuried leg to throw the kick. Tadashi was able to sweep the other one out from under him very easily. Jin’s body went flying sideways into the air. In one fluid motion, without a single moment wasted, Jin pulled his upper body forward. 

Jin landed on his upper back—Tadashi hardly processed it before Jin had taken him down to the ground with an Imanari Roll. He had a heel hook tightly locked in right as Tadashi touched the ground. 

“How many FIGHTING STYLES DO YOU KNOW!?” Tadashi screamed in agony. 

Jin cinched it in tighter, trying to break Tadashi’s knee. 

Tadashi brought his hips up, sending his sneaker right into Jin’s face. He had to kick him repeatedly for Jin to let up on the heel hook. Once it was loose enough, Tadashi slipped his leg out of Jin’s hold. He rolled on the ground, trying to get back up to his feet. Jin had his back before Tadashi could. He wrapped an arm around his neck, legs around Tadashi’s waist. He took complete control of the back mount, Jin catching him in a rear naked choke.

Tadashi gritted his teeth, already losing air quick between Jin’s rigid arms. As hard as Tadashi tried, he could not pry himself out of Jin’s tightening hold. He pushed and pulled until he was able to tilt to the side enough to be on his forearm and knees. 

Jin was still on his back, still choking him. It took every ounce of strength Tadashi had to lift himself off his hands and knees. Jin was larger than him in both height and weight. The weight was even worse with his damaged knee. Once Tadashi got to his feet, he tried to send himself onto his back to get Jin off. 

Jin unwrapped his legs from around Tadashi’s waist and took one arm off of his neck. As Tadashi fell backward, Jin coiled upward—legs hooking around Tadashi’s arm mid-air, locking in an armbar the moment they hit the ground. All of this happening within half a second. 

“FUCK!” Tadashi screamed, his arm almost pulled out of the socket by Jin. 

Ava was still watching. What started as just neutrality was now her biting down on her lip anxiously. As satisfying as it should be to see Tadashi get his ass kicked, this is not what she wanted. 

“Can you guys please stop this shit!?” She called out to them.

They both ignored her. 

Tadashi twisted inside the hold, pulling until his arm was freed without much resistance, ending up on his front again. 

Jin scrambled towards him, slipping one arm under his armpit and around his neck, the other one coming over. Immediately getting him to switch from an armbar to a D’arce choke. Tadashi was once again trapped. This time, he couldn’t see any real way out of it. He slammed his fist into Jin’s stomach, but he couldn’t generate enough force from where he was. 

An idea came to him. It was something he shouldn’t do. Not to a friend, not to him. His friend? That wasn’t who was choking him. 

Tadashi’s fist was completely engulfed in a green energy—the energy appeared to be warping over itself repeatedly—a stable, steady warping, mesmerizing. He drove it right into Jin’s abdomen, digging deep. The immediate impact was not enough to get Jin to let go of him, but the sharp, exploding pain inside his body that came a moment later was.

Tadashi didn’t let up, mounting Jin, a hand on his chest keeping him there. He slammed his fist down on Jin’s jaw once, and then twice, and again, and again. Jin slipped out of the way of his sixth punch, grabbing the collar of his shirt. He ripped Tadashi down and intercepted his nose with his own forehead. 

The impact sent Tadashi off Jin, both men rolling back to their feet. 

“STOP FIGHTING LIKE A PUSSY!” Tadashi brought a finger up to his nose, it was bleeding again—reopened from earlier 

Jin wiped his lip with the back of his hand, it was busted up badly. 

“Yo!” Ava shouted louder than last time. She had moved a bit closer. “Are you guys done? Just fucking stop and listen to me for once. You guys are so far up each other's asses!” 

“Stay out of this, Ava. You don’t get it.” Tadashi didn’t spare her a glance.

Jin didn’t give her acknowledgement, rushing right back towards Tadashi. 

He planted his foot, bringing his le—
Jin was sent through the air, slamming into the sloped wall hard, rolling down it. 

“ENOUGH!” Ava’s eyes were wide open, filled with adrenaline and anger. “LISTEN TO ME!” 

She snapped her body towards Tadashi, slamming her finger into his chest hard. 

“What the FUCK are we doing!? Why are you two always fighting!? Why do you do these things, man? It was the both of you. You two are the reason we all left each other. So caught up in your twisted and fucked love story. Osuke left because of you guys, Lyric too, even Cerys couldn’t take it anymore. You ruined everything, you ruined what I had.” Her nail had cut into Tadashi’s skin, her breathing uncontrolled. Her eyes only got wider. “You’re the reason Vicky and I don't talk anymore. I don’t GET IT! I don’t know why she liked you so fucking much. You took my best friend away from me, and for what? What did you get out of it? You, you… UGH!” She pushed him hard, pulling her nail out of his chest. 

Tadashi stayed silent through her entire rant, not moving once. There was a mix of emotions running through his features. It was impossible to discern just what his emotions were, it was always impossible to tell. 

“SAY SOMETHING!” she screamed.

“If I was enough to split you and her, maybe she didn’t like you as much as you thought.”

Ava already had all her energy in the strength bars and one speed, punching up at his chin. 

Tadashi brought his arms out in front of him in a ‘X’ formation, letting her fist hit right in the middle. He was sent off of his feet and into the air backwards. He shook his arms in the air. Landing on his feet, he watched Ava launch off at one of the slopes then directly at him. Tadashi brought his arm up, tensing the entire side of his body and preparing as she kicked him. He was sent rolling across the concrete roughly, stopping himself quickly. Ava followed closely behind, bringing her foot back and kicking at the side of his head. Tadashi tucked his head against his forearm, preparing while he was still on the ground. He was sent up into the air, doing a backflip. He looked down to see her. 

Ava waited for him to come down before striking at his chest.

Tadashi brought his arms over each other again and blocked to the best of his ability. This one sent him right into the wall—causing the wall to bend inwards. 

Ava saw this and her eyes went wide for a second. “Yo! Are you alive!?”

Tadashi pushed himself out of the medium-sized hole he made. “Yeah. Yeah.” Stumbling back onto his feet, he was pretty roughed up, definitely sore everywhere. He was still standing straight even after her barrage. 

“Did you get it out of your system?” 

“Not even close, Tadashi. I have two more years’ worth of anger in me.” 

“Okay, then.” Tadashi brought his hands up, preparing himself again. 

Ava shot forward with speed—only to be put to a dead stop when a shin connected with her forehead. She hit the ground hard, the boosted speed made it worse. 

“Get out of my way. This will never be your fight. Stay oblivious.” Jin looked down at her. 

Ava glared up at him, slamming her hand into the ground and standing up. She threw a kick at his ribs. The kick connected with his side, curling his body to the side. Despite the pain, he grabbed her leg and held it to his side. His other hand slammed around her throat, locking like a vice. He lifted Ava up into the air, turned, and slammed her down into the ground. 

Tadashi got to Jin just as he released Ava, his foot shooting up and kicking Jin down. He continued by jumping up into the air, attempting to stomp down on Jin’s head with both sneakers. Jin rolled out of the way, standing as he did. He grabbed Tadashi’s wrist, headbutting him again.

Ava got back up, driving her knee into Jin’s injured side. Tadashi slammed his fist forward into Jin’s face, pushing through the punch and sending him back. Jin stumbled, clutching his side hard. The bandage was completely soaked, blood seeping through it. It wasn’t only there, blood started to leak from his lip and the inside of his mouth. 

Tadashi paused, he saw how badly Jin was bleeding.

Ava began to run forward, ready to continue her assault. Tadashi grabbed her by the back of the collar and yanked her backwards.

“DON’T STOP ME!” She turned, sending a backhand across Tadashi’s face. 

His head snapped to the side, blood spraying out of his nose across the concrete. 

Jin got to Ava, grabbing her hair and ripping her forward—his elbow meeting the side of her head. The elbow dazed her, followed up by another elbow cutting down on her trap. 

Tadashi slammed his shoulder into Jin, breaking him away from Ava. 

Ava stepped back, then jumped. Her foot flew toward Jin’s injured thigh. Tadashi grabbed her sleeve mid-air, pulling her away before she got to Jin. 

Jin responded to this by slashing an elbow across Tadashi’s face. The elbow connected so violently that Tadashi collapsed to his hands and knees, blood pouring out of his nose. The entire lower half of his face was coated in his own viscous blood, it made it hard to breathe. 

Ava was beside where Tadashi landed, turning her body and kicking him in the side, sending him. 

Jin lifted Ava by her hair, pulling her into a knee that buried into her gut. She felt the spit force itself out of her mouth, heaving. Jin slammed his knee into her again, and then again. 

Tadashi forced his body to cooperate, grabbing Jin’s hair and pulling him away from Ava as soon as he got back to them. He didn’t let go as he sent a cross punch into the side of Jin’s face, bashing him.

Ava stumbled up, almost tripping over her own feet. Her balance was completely gone. She lifted her leg up and was able to hit Jin’s injured side again, her boosted strength tearing it open as he was sent out of Tadashi’s grip and skidding across the platform. 

Tadashi watched this, his eyes wide before narrowing. He looked at Jin, then back at Ava. Ava matched his gaze—she wanted to get to Jin, and he was stopping her. She took a step towards Jin, then turned to throw a wild overhand at Tadashi once he got close. Tadashi slipped underneath it and got behind her. 

Bringing his arms around her waist, he lifted her into the air and quickly slammed her down on the back of her neck with a suplex. The two of them ended up on the ground, Ava writhing in pain. Tadashi lay across from her; the two locked eyes. 

“Between you and him, I will always pick him… so please don’t make me hurt you.”

Ava stared at him wordlessly, her face scrunched in anger and pain before relaxing. Her body went limp on the ground, letting herself rest.

Tadashi’s entire body was on fire. He didn’t want to get up. It was agony. His joints were screaming at him to stay down. His throat was clogged with blood; his hands and chest were covered in it, all of it his own. Even though this wasn’t a new sight for him, it felt disgusting. Despite everything, Tadashi forced himself up.

Jin was on one knee, clutching his side desperately, trying to keep in his viscera. 

Tadashi took every step towards him with an agonizing resolve. 

Left foot, right foot. He deserved this. He knew he deserved this. 

Left foot, right foot. Did he ever try to change his nature? What exactly was his nature?

Left, right. What would his girls think of him?

Left, right. What happened to their dream?

Left, right. Was it too late to have Jin care for him again? 

He stopped in front of him. Jin still couldn’t get off his knee. Tadashi looked down. Jin looked up. 

Tadashi got down on his knees in front of Jin, bringing his hand to the side of Jin’s face. Jin turned his cheek away instinctively, but Tadashi’s hand settled there anyway. 

“I will always need you, Jin,” the words barely passed through the blood. 

“You don’t get to do that,” Jin’s voice cracked—the words came out as air. 

Jin’s bruised hands—blood-ridden, shaking, weak—came to Tadashi’s cheeks.

Tadashi didn’t fight it. He accepted Jin’s touch absolutely. 

They let it sit. They let the moment linger. It was alright. It wasn’t allowed to be nice. It wasn’t bad either. But it was alright. 

Jin’s hand slid up Tadashi’s face, just as Tadashi’s hand did on his. Their hands gripped each other’s hair. Jin slipped his other hand from Tadashi’s cheek, bringing it back as far as he could. It made a sick, wet thud as it connected to the side of Tadashi’s face. Tadashi almost didn’t have the strength to return it—but his fist cracked against Jin’s jaw all the same. 

Then it was Jin, then it was Tadashi, then Jin, then Tadashi. 

They couldn’t stop now. They didn’t know how. This was how they were. This was how men like them had to be.

Jin’s fist came across Tadashi’s jaw again. He waited, but the return punch didn’t come. Tadashi’s head hung limply in his hold. Jin tried to speak, but nothing came out. His eyes drifted down to the…

There was no concrete beneath them. It was a puddle of their own blood.

He tossed Tadashi down into the puddle, straddling his stomach. Jin looked at him, at the crimson coat that made him nearly unrecognizable. Tadashi’s hair stuck to his face, making it hard to see his eyes. Jin’s hands moved from his chest to his throat, both hands resting there. He felt the warmth, the softness of his skin, the blood that pumped through his artery. 

He squeezed hard—as hard as his weakening body would allow. Tadashi’s breath hitched, then became struggled. His lips parted, trying to suck in breaths that wouldn’t pass Jin’s blockade. His body squirmed under Jin’s weight—light, instinctual. Jin tried to squeeze harder. He knew he physically couldn’t, yet he tried. He wanted to stop this. He leaned forward to put more pressure on Tadashi’s neck, Jin’s face over his—blood leaking from his lips, dripping onto Tadashi’s, their blood mixing. Tadashi’s fingers wrapped around Jin’s wrists, his nails dragging gently against his skin. They weren’t harsh, they weren’t trying to remove Jin’s touch. They just held him tight. Tadashi’s eyes began to close, his face leaning closer to Jin.

“I love you, Jin,” Tadashi’s desperate chokes formed the words. 

Jin’s hands softened on Tadashi’s neck. His lips trembled. If he let go now, he’d never have the bravery to do it again.  His hands tightened once more, resolving himself to this torture. 

Ava stumbled over, barely able to stand on her feet, but she ran either way. She jumped, crashing into Jin with her knee. The force knocked him off Tadashi and back into the puddle of blood. Ava hit the ground shoulder-first, having given that final sprint her all. 

Tadashi turned onto his side, blood spilling from his mouth. The breaths finally reached his lungs. Tears ran down his cheeks from the choking. His hands shook violently. He looked down at Jin, who laid beside him, awake but unmoving. 

Tadashi reached out, resting his hand on Jin’s, squeezing. 

“I’m here, Jin. I’m here now. I don’t want to leave you.” 

“Then don’t. Don’t leave me.” 

Ava turned her head towards them. Their blood stained her cheek, but that went unnoticed. She couldn’t speak, even if she wanted to. The fight was over, but it didn’t feel over. It had just begun with all of them. She wanted to believe, really believe, that maybe this time it wasn’t going to be them fighting each other.

Chapter Text

He couldn’t help but feel like they’d put him in the dingiest office possible. Devoid of personality, more than just personality, it was devoid of intact wallpaper. The wall behind him peeled more than the hands of a kid with eczema. Maybe this was her idea of punishing him for last year. He was almost confident that was why he’d been put in here. Even the light source was miserable. Every time he looked up at the fluorescent tube dangling from the stained ceiling, there was another insect that had found its way in. He didn’t even have a proper fucking desk—it was some cheap plastic shit. It was an unusually cruel punishment, ripping him from his whimsical and bright offices. 

“Hey, are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah, yeah… I am.” 

“Alright then, what was I saying then?” 

The lack of response gave him away quickly. 

“Ezra, I’m really trying here.” 

“Yes, I’m sure you are.” He gave her a half-assed smile.

Ezra spared her one good glance before returning his eyes to the ceiling. And just like he expected, there was another insect that killed itself in pursuit of the great light all creatures wish to reach. Was that a light he wished to reach as well? He pondered the question on rare occasion. He certainly hadn’t done the actions required to pass the pearly gates. But surely he wasn’t too bad of a person. That furthered his train of thought, now he wondered where on the scale he stood. He always liked to think that all the evil he did wasn’t equivalent to the good he was doing. Would God excuse human trafficking if it was for a good reason? Better question, actually, was human trafficking even all that bad? It’s not like these people were good people. They all had their lives in the metaphorical shitter before he got them. Okay, human trafficking was bad—no fucking way he was having this conversation with himself right now. Maybe his sins would divide throughout his entire crew evenly, and then he’d only have to take one tenth of the total sin. Well, that posed the question: just how many sins had this accumulated for him? It had been four years of this… multiply that by the number of people, then put that to the second power, and finally round up to the nearest decimal.

…

Hell will burn warm for him. 

“Anyways, that’s all you need to say to Mr. Chambers.” 

Ezra’s eyes came wide open, the half-assed smile he had turned to a nervous one. He brought a finger to the collar of his shirt, tugging on it awkwardly. “Can you uh… hit me with that one more time?” 

“I knew you weren’t listening.” The woman groaned, shaking her head disapprovingly. 

“Ianira, my lovely, beautiful, dearest, sweet, caring, independent—”

“I am not going to repeat what I told you.” She cut him off. 

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, lass, gerofit. You keep harping on, you ‘ought to stop yer mytherin’.” Ezra let his natural accent slip over his learned one, standing up from the folding chair he had once sat in. 

That got exactly the reaction he was hoping for from Ianira. She had a faint smile on her face now. 

“You really suck at sounding like the place you’re from.” Her tone was lighter. 

“You wouldn’t know what a proper northern geezer sounds like, you’re as American as they come.”

She neglected to entertain that comment, instead standing up to intercept him at the side of the desk. He was hoping to slip away from her before she gave him a quest to go on for her, maybe he could just tell her off. He had never tried using his Manifest on her, well, outside of the fun uses, but would that be the same? Maybe she’d see it as the same, and then he could have some fun to end off a pretty exciting day of fights. 

“Can you repeat that?” He smiled at her, interrupting her. 

“I didn’t say a single thing yet, Ezra. I was waiting for you to stop thinking about whatever you’re thinking about right now. Which, by the way, I told you to at least try and have a less obvious thinking face.” 

“People don’t know me for my subtlety.” 

Placing a hand on her shoulder, he nudged her out of the way so he could get past her and to the door of the office. He was so very close to leaving, a twist of the knob away before she gave him that quest he was so dreading. 

“Go see the guests out before we meet with Mr. Chambers. Ms. Smith took time out of her schedule to come see us again.” 

“You know I don’t like that prissy cunt. She’s too up her own ass.” He waved her off, going to leave the room.

“It doesn’t matter if you like her or not, she’s a big deal. We need to show her the respect of acknowledging her presence. And she’s not all, Ezra. Mr. Uercassiuellaounos showed up this time. Looks like you’re really starting to make waves if the old codger decided it was worth his time—you’re impressing me.” 

That one stopped him in his tracks, tilting his head. He could feel the smile overtaking his face. That was good news. Turning back around to face her, he rested his hands behind his back and leaned forward. 

“I think that gave me a hard-on.” He hushed himself, like it was a secret.

Ianira smirked at that comment. “Then say your goodbyes and hurry back, I’m not going anywhere.” 

Ezra was already out of the door before she finished, that was all he needed to hear to get going. He wasn’t quite ready to be seeing people, though. He had already tied his hair back, and his makeup was a tad smudged. He worked on it while walking down the empty hallways, the state of them not much better than what his office looked like. 

It was a shame they had to host this year’s tournament in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere. Even more so because their location was a factory far past usable condition. It had, of course, been Ianira’s idea to situate them here, especially considering the debacle that derailed last year’s tournament. 

He had gotten his hair back down, using a hand to tousle his thick, cotton-candy hair. There wasn’t much he could do about his smudged makeup, though that shouldn’t be a problem.

Getting out into the stands, Ezra took a look around at those who remained. The first to catch his eye was Mr. Uerca… call… cu—Vercingetorix. He typically referred to him by his first name; his surname was as difficult as tackling a four-hundred-pound linebacker. The old man stood out in the fleeting crowd. He really stood out, eight feet tall and structured like a fortress. He had founded his organization in his twenties, and it was sixty years since—definitely an old ass in his stadium. He took a brief look around for the other guest of honour. That task didn’t take too long; Xanthe Smith and the assistant who never left her side were on their way out the door. That unfortunately meant he had to talk to the rich ol’ bitch first.

“Ms. Smith, it was a pleasure to see you here.” He smiled from ear to ear, extending his hand. 

The woman turned, her face didn’t change from its faint, everlasting scowl. “Mr. Trades, it’s good to be here. Your tournaments never fail to entertain me.” She took his hand in a firm grip, shaking it. 

“You come here nearly every year. I certainly hope you enjoy it. It wouldn’t make much sense if you didn’t.” He poked gently at her strict and bored demeanor.

“Hm. Has anyone told you that your makeup is currently smudged?” Her eyebrows raised. 

Clearly, it was a problem. 

“Ms. Smith does have somewhere to be now,” her guard interjected.

He never liked Vidor Belko. He never learned much about him, the man kept to himself unless he needed to say something. From what Ezra could tell, he had a thing for snakes. What gave it away was the viper tattoo coiled around his neck and the scales formed under his eyes, going to the sides of his nose. What he knew for sure was that the guy had an even bigger stick shoved up his ass than his boss.

“Of course, I wouldn’t want to hinder you.” Ezra gave her a small bow, still smiling at him. 

“It is of little concern to me, but the sentiment is appreciated.” She turned her back to him. 

“Before you do, I must mention you look lovely today, madam,” Ezra added, still bowing. 

The woman let out a bored hum to acknowledge what he said, but did not respond. It didn’t take her long to disappear from his sight, along with a few other guests he had. 

His gaze snapped back to the unmoved Vercingetorix. The two locked eyes, which meant he was waiting for him. That would make things easier for him, he supposed.  

Standing up straight, he first adjusted his vest and cleared any pesky ruffles from his clothes. Only then was he finally ready to—

“Ezra Rose Walsh.” He heard the voice before he saw the face. He knew the voice.  

Bloody hell. 

“Mr. Layton.” The smile slid back on Ezra’s face effortlessly. 

“You can use Caius by now, friend. Your presence has been sorely missed, you know that?” Caius’ breath was fanning against him uncomfortably. 

Caius Layton—he wasn’t going to delve into the memory bank for this one. 

“I’ve been preoccupied with my carnival, friend. You host your parties over in Edenstown, unfortunately. It is a distance from Rosewood, so I won’t be able to make it.” His smile was somewhat faltering. 

“You’d come if you really wanted to.” He persisted, but quickly shifted away from it as he brought his arms out towards Ezra. “Forget about it. Let’s just hug it out, Ezra.” 

Ezra stood still. If there was anything he didn’t want to do, it was touch Caius. Now he had to think of a way out of this, was there any actual way out of this? He seldom saw Caius, but when he did, it was equivalent to choking semen. 

“I didn’t notice you in the crowd. Were you here to witness the contest Sydney partook in?” Ezra moved on, never having given Caius that hug. 

Caius brought his arms down. That gesture from Ezra rubbed him the wrong way, that was evident in his ticked-off expression. Regardless, he would move on for now. 

“I was here for Sydney, I missed her quite a bit. Sometimes I regret giving her up. She’s amazing when you get her on the right drugs. Have you ever given her a try?” Caius spoke with pride. 

“No, I cannot say I have.” Ezra kept it brief. 

“Shame, you should.” Caius turned his gaze back down to the pit.

The two men did not exchange any more words for the remaining minute they spent side by side. Eventually, Caius left wordlessly, and finally Ezra could breathe clearly. 

His eyes hopefully tracked to where Vercingetorix had been standing. Lo and behold, he was still standing there, unmoved. If there was one good thing about the old coot, he was patient. 

Ezra got over to the fortress of a man, standing right beside him. His hands rested clasped behind him, standing up straight. He did his best to appear as proper as he possibly could in a clown outfit. It was ridiculous, especially when standing beside the expensive black suit the man wore. 

“Mr…”

“Uercassiuellaounos,” he finished where he saw Ezra struggle. “No one gets it right on their first try. Don’t think about it too much, you will learn it.”

Ezra gave a simple bow to that. Ianira wouldn’t want him to say something stupid. He typically didn’t bother listening to her; This, unfortunately, did seem like it would be important to her. What kind of man would he be if he crushed the heart of his wonderful damsel? All he needed was for the man standing beside him not to say the one thing that would get him to snap. 

“I had always brushed off this mindless violence as just that, mindless violence. It is that, but I would be lying if I said I do not see what people get out of this. It surprised me more that Mr. Chambers implored me to do this.” 

“Mr. Chambers imploring anyone to do anything is hard to believe. He has his way of avoiding ever actually telling you what to do while letting you know exactly what you need to do.” Ezra smiled.

Ezra noticed the unlit cigar that sat comfortably between the man’s lips. Clearly he was not going to light it himself. Ezra drew in a sharp, albeit unnoticed breath, reaching into the pocket of the man’s suit. He felt nothing in the pocket facing him. His lighter was in the pocket further from him. His eyes came back up to see the face of the man, it was unchanged. Ezra considered going around him, as was likely expected. These sorts of games brought little amusement to him, not in the slightest. Rather, he reached his arm around the man’s waist, wrapping his arm around it and holding him while he dug around in the other pocket. There, he did successfully find a lighter. His eyes came back to see the face of the man, it was about what you’d expected. To avoid addressing it, Ezra extended his arm fully just to reach his lips and light the cigar.

“Do you take me as one of your whores?” Vercingetorix spoke as he inhaled.

“No sir, you’re far too handsome to be a whore. You strike me as more of a strumpet.” 

He got an almost immediate chuckle out of the old coot. 

“You’re good at what you do. Your jester act, you know just how to push buttons. Mr. Chambers has always taken a liking to you. I came here for the show, but I did need to see with my own eyes just what kind of man gains the favor of a figure like Mr. Chambers.” He still had a smile on his face from the joke. 

“I cannot take credit for that. Ianira Romanos, my partner, is who Valerian has true liking for. She simply refuses to work with anyone who isn’t me, that’s all.” 

“Oh yeah? And what did you do to gain such loyalty from her?” It came off as critical, with a hint of curiosity. 

Ezra took a brief moment after he asked. It wasn’t a very simple answer, maybe something he shouldn’t be sharing with a man he hardly knew. But he knew better than to neglect a question Vercingetorix asked. 

“Me and Ms. Romanos met nine years ago, when we were kids. I was fresh off the boat from Lancashire, and she had been moving around the States her entire life. I took up petty crimes—think: pickpocketing, mugging, home robberies, and that sort. It was all to survive, but it was silly nonetheless. Of course, my dear Ianira was still studying to be and acting as an FSIA officer at the time. We didn’t like each other, you have to imagine the worst sort of bickering two mates could have. But we were still that: mates. Even if our lifestyles conflicted, we got close to each other because that is the deck life gives you. I couldn’t help myself; a beautiful woman like her? I was wrapped around her finger quicker than you could say ‘lovesick’.” 

The story was a clear amusement to Vercingetorix, if gauging off of his smile and relaxed posture. That was a relief to him. If it was going to have any effect, amusement would be the desirable one. 

“I never knew Ms. Romanos to be your woman, Mr. Walsh.”

“She’s not. We truly are just business partners now.” Ezra leaned over the railing, a smile there. It was the most genuine smile he had all night.

“Kids and their troubles. I never had to face such problems in my youth. I married the woman I loved when I was still a stupid child, the only force that could separate us was the one that comes between even the most desperate of love: death.” He had finished his cigar in record time, flicking it down into the pit beneath. “When death took her, I turned to building my organization, my fortress. It is easier to face your successes than it is to face your failures. If you avoid your failures long enough, they become permanent stains on your soul, ones that can no longer be washed away. There is no space for grief for men in our trade, I must focus on my A.S.P.I.S.”

Ezra’s eyes shut faster than they ever had before. His closed smile started to crack wider and wider. He was fighting with everything inside of him. His lips were sealed so incredibly tight that they couldn’t be pried open with a crowbar. 

“Is there something wrong, Mr. Walsh?” Vercingetorix's voice hit his ears. 

He did fight, he fought his damndest. He didn’t want to crush his damsel’s heart, nor did he want to break professionalism. In the end, he had failed his two goals, but he was who he was, and he needed to say something about it before he imploded. 

“Ass… piss,” his voice made this horrible grumble noise as he fought the laugh back down. 

He couldn’t focus on the silence in the air, he was actually too focused on not laughing. It was an ongoing battle. He had a moment of clarity that he was twenty-eight and laughing about ‘ass piss’, a thought which just made it all that much worse. It took him at least three minutes to open his eyes again and tame his lungs. 

“An aspis is a shield,” Vercingetorix spoke once Ezra was done. 

Yeah, this was going to be an absolute riot. 

<><>

The red of the lights bathed over the two of them as they lay side by side in the cell. It was warm and relaxing, at least, as warm and relaxing as it could be with the pain coursing through him. Tadashi turned his head toward the woman beside him, taking a good look at Ava's face. Phenomenal Germanic phenotype, such an interesting face—it was soft, and her features were so gentle. It made the constant scrunched-up angst that shadowed nearly every emotion she had all the more unfitting. 

“Are you awake?” he whispered, right in her ear, from three inches away. 

“Yes, Tadashi.” There was almost a groan in her voice. “Is there a reason you’re keeping me awake? Everyone else is asleep.” 

“Yes, I have a great reason. I can’t sleep. So why should you?” 

Ava pushed her lips together, deciding to just turn her back to him entirely. She scooted a few inches away from him for good measure, much to his dismay. 

He waited for a while then scooted right behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder and shaking her softly. Ava wasn’t giving him any sort of attention, even though she was obviously awake. It made him shake harder until he finally got something out of her. She turned around suddenly, glaring at him. 

“What.” 

“Thank you. You saved me,” he spoke under his breath. 

Ava’s face softened somewhat. She closed her eyes. He could tell she was cooking something up in her tiny little brain and gave her the time to do that. 

“It wasn’t really for you, Tadashi. Vicky wouldn’t want you gone. And…” Ava’s voice trailed off.

“Is it really that hard to admit you want me alive?” 

“Yeah, it kinda is. You could’ve warned us about this, dickass,” she shot back, crossing her arms and laying on her back again with a huff. 

Tadashi let her have that. He didn’t particularly have the energy to argue, he doubted she did either. There really was nothing to argue anyway. He did exactly what all of them were saying he did, he could acknowledge that. Did he have his reasons? Not really. None of them particularly understood him, not enough to get it. Jin needed him just as much as he needed Jin, Osuke made excuses even if he disagreed, and Victoria…

“Do you remember the time that me, you, Jin, Cerys, and Victoria went fishing?”

Ava turned her head to him slowly, that certainly got her attention. “Maybe,” she hesitated.

“Do you remember what happened? 

“We went fishing, nothing bad happened, happily ever after.” Ava’s eyes were pleading.

He was having a hard time containing the laugh that was building in his throat. They hadn’t mentioned it ever since that day. Ava paid them not to say anything about it. That meant nothing now, his entertainment did. 

“How the fuck do you get a wedgie from casting a line?” He spoke a little louder. 

“I—” Ava was going to shout, barely stopping herself. 

Tadashi followed her gaze to the sleeping Lilith. She was having an easy time sleeping like a baby, she went unharmed, her match against Jin cancelled. Jin was severely injured, far too much to continue in the tournament. They were keeping him to make sure he didn’t die. Part of that relieved Tadashi.

“It was stupid and it was the clothes’ fault. I did nothing wrong. So fuggin’ embarrassing, man.”

“Pshh, Victoria covered you before we could really see anything. It was still the funniest thing to happen all year though.” 

Ava was seething in silence. This story should have never been mentioned again. The bribes she handed out that day were meant to ensure that.

“She was a great friend,” Ava murmured. 

“Easily influenced.”

“Then you should’ve been a better influence.” 

Tadashi was halted by those words.

“If we get out of here, will you pay for my dinner?” Tadashi avoided eye contact with her. 

“No dude, why are you asking me to do that? Aren’t you rich?” 

“No, I’m flat broke. I spent all my money on slot machines.” 

Ava whispered something under her breath, Tadashi didn’t catch what it was; this conversation wasn’t going where he envisioned it would, where he hoped it would.

“Do you have it in you to say sorry to people? And I don’t mean that half-ass shit. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you genuinely apologize in all the time I’ve known you. You look sorry sometimes, you definitely are the guiltiest dude I know. But is it actually possible for you to say sorry?” Ava whispered, calmer now.

“As if an apology would fix the things I did. A stupid apology is easy. I could say sorry right now and nothing would change. What happens? Will Victoria come back? I don’t really think you want a ‘sorry.’”

Ava didn’t miss a beat.  

“No. Say sorry, Tadashi. I want you to say sorry.” 

He couldn’t say he wasn’t expecting that. He probably should’ve kept his mouth shut. He wasn’t against saying sorry, not in the slightest, he could say sorry if he really needed to, but what purpose would it actually serve? It was a stupid gesture, an empty one. Is anything actually fixed by two words? 

“You know I am. I let you beat the shit out of me. Words are weak, they’re for people who can’t act.” 

“So you’ll bleed out and let someone kill you, but you won’t shovel your pride back into your mouth so you can just apologize?” 

“Yeah, maybe. Apologizing does nothing.”

“Well aren’t you so… something. I forgot the term.” 

That was where that conversation ended. They had known each other a long time—long enough to know when to back off. The last thing they wanted was to get into an argument so soon after ‘hashing things out.’ 

Tadashi turned his body away from Ava not long after. His eyes had a hard time seeing anything outside of the cell, the pitch black started right where the leaking red light from his cell ended. There were other cells he could see: Ezekiel and JD’s still remained barren, yet the lights did not go out. Jin did what he had to do, there was no way that fight was ending with someone alive. Did it matter to him what Jin did? No, no it didn’t. As if he hadn’t done worse. Just how many people had he killed in his best days? 

Best days? That really was a way to look at it, wasn’t it? His best days weren’t with a bottle in one hand and his dick in the other, they were with the two he loved the most. Two years and eleven months since they left. An anniversary no one but three could celebrate. An anniversary that sickened him. But where would that get him? Thinking about all of this, where did it get him?

He needed to focus on this now. He needed to be—

“Pragmatic.” Tadashi glanced at her. “The term is pragmatic.” 

“Look at you, smartass. You’re not all fist up there,” Ava snarked back at him. “If only you used it.” 

“At least I can use it.” There was a pause as he considered, should he mention him? Yeah. “That’s more than you could say for Thomas.” 

There was a stifled laugh from the body beside him. A genuine attempt not to, but a failure either way. 

“Dude, he was so incoherent. How did Osuke even become friends with him?” Ava turned to face Tadashi. 

“Y’know Osuke, he takes pity on people easily.” Tadashi did the same, the two now facing each other. “I always wondered where Thomas ended up. Actually, I did hear some news about him a while back.” 

Ava returned his gaze, raising an eyebrow and prompting him to go on. 

“Apparently not long after we all broke up, he got bad enough to get a Manifest awakening. He dug deeper into his shit—like, significantly worse than high school. Anyways, at some point he ran into Fate Providence and got in a confrontation with two top-ranking members. Their colonel ended up dead, alongside her people, who were missing most of their fleshy bits. Their general got away with a missing arm and one hell of a story.”

Ava was staring at him in silence, completely unsure of how he wanted her to react to a story like that. She was having a hard time imagining it—sure, Thomas was bad, but there was no way, was there? 

“I didn’t hear about this? It wasn’t on the news from what I remember. How do you know?”

“I was with them for a bit, it wasn’t really with them though.” Tadashi shrugged. 

“You joined a fucking terrorist group?”  It was a hushed yell.

 “Well, ‘join’ isn’t the word I would use. Associated fits better.” 

“You have this amazing ability as to where every time I think I know your lowest, you’ve gone lower.”

Tadashi gave her a small shrug, though there was a smile on his face. “I’m good at disappointment. No one does it better than me.” 

She rolled her eyes in response, letting them flutter closed. She appeared to decide to sleep, or she was trying to stop talking to him—neither of which bothered Tadashi. It only got him to lay flat on his back, eyes going right back up to the blinding red light that kept the room lit. Right back where he started before the two had the conversation. Right back to where he always went, absolutely nowhere. What a stagnant and soggy existence he lived in, one where every step forward was taken on a treadmill. 

<><>

She held her knees close to her chest, her head resting on the two sharp peaks. There was nothing for the three of them to do in this room. More specifically, really nothing for her to do. She sat in the very corner of the room, furthest from the door. She was far from Ava and Tadashi, who were lying closer to the door.

The two had been conversing in short bursts every once in a while. The more she heard it happen, the stranger it got. They would discuss meaningless nothings then go silent for a while, longer than they had been talking. There was no place for her to jump in most of the time; she had no fond memories of high school to share with them. Jin introduced her to them in the twilight of their teens, not all that long before they broke up. 

“When did you two start being friends?” Lilith had waited for another stint of silence to speak.

They both turned their gaze to Lilith in unison, all their attention on her. 

“So she doesn’t like it when we argue and she doesn’t like it when we get along. What exactly do you want us to do then?” Tadashi was the first to speak up. 

“I don’t know, I prefer the silence.” Lilith brought her head off her knees. 

“We were being silent when you spoke up.” Ava lifted her body a bit, still lying on her side. 

“I think she’s just mad that we’re talking more than her.” 

“Oh yeah, that’s true.” Ava looked back at Tadashi, giggling. 

“I just think we should be more worried about Jin. A night and half a day have passed, and they still haven’t returned him. Surely his injuries were not that bad, not enough to still be tending to him. What if they’ve done something to him? Would you not feel guilty for enjoying yourselves while your friend might be in peril?” her voice was dry but lecturing. 

“Jin will be fine. Jin will always be fine—y’know why that is, Lilith? Because Jin is too much of a bastard to lay down and quit. He could be bleeding out of his ass and eyes and you’d still find him on the front lines, fighting. He could be dead, and he’d puppeteer his corpse from Hell to torment whoever killed him,” Tadashi shut her down, his barely concealed annoyance oozing. 

“Noted.” Lilith whispered to herself. 

“You know what’s always confused me? Tadashi, Jin, and Osuke were tight. It was Victoria and me, Osuke and Lyric, Osuke and Thomas—but only kinda. Cerys and Tadashi, Jin and Hayami too, but who the fuck was Lilith best friends with?” Ava started an unprompted tirade. “I mean, I know she joined us late, but like honestly, who did she click with? I genuinely don’t remember if anyone was best friends with her. Maybe it was Selene?”

“Nahhhh, Selene was all mine.” Tadashi piped up from behind Ava, putting a stop to her with a stupid smile spreading across his face. 

“You’re so gross, and you know Selene didn’t want you. She was never going to let you screw her, you do realize that, right?” Ava was squinting.

“That’s what you think. I’m telling you, I was one drunk close encounter away from putting a baby in her.” He was still smiling. 

“I’m actually surprised you never got a girl pregnant with all that whoredom in high school.”  

Tadashi’s smile dropped a bit, his hand coming out and pushing Ava onto her back somewhat hard. 

Lilith was still clinging to Ava’s earlier tirade. It was rude and unnecessary. But, regardless of how it was delivered, she was not wrong. Lilith wasn’t sure if she considered any of them genuinely close to her. This wasn’t something she could be preoccupied with right now, it was considerably stupid. What mattered was making it out of here, not whether these people considered her a friend. 

Shrill scratch, 

“There’s this story I’ve always remembered from when I was a little boy. It’s the story of the town mouse and the country mouse, one of Aesop’s fables. In this story, the town mouse visits his cousin, the country mouse, and he comes over to have plain old shit-sty farmer scraps for dinner—I mean the type of shit you’d feed your pigs. Of course, the town mouse is not pleased, no, he is not pleased in the slightest. So you know what he does? He tells his little country mouse friend to come along with him to the city,” There was a sharp edge in his voice, every word skidding out of his lips. “And when they get to the city, they enjoy this fantastic meal. A real feast with bread and wine, everything a vermin could want. But just as they start to really gorge themselves, a cat comes and tries to make a meal of them. The little country vermin and his town friend scutter back into their mouse hole, and that’s where the town rat tells him that that same cat had killed his parents, and continues to try and kill him every single time he goes out to enjoy his real food. And this revelation is enough to send the filthy little fuck back to his countryside to live in obscurity, to do nothing but shovel down shit for the rest of his life. An—and you see? That’s exactly what life is, isn’t it? You can choose to be comfortable, you can choose to live a meaningless but secure life—a life where you eat the shit you’re given like a proper little vermin, or you can choose to spend every single day with the cat getting closer to your tail. But at the very least—at the… very least, it will mean something.” Jack’s voice had only sharpened as he went on. “Are you asking yourself what relevance this has to anything? Very little relevance at all. You know what does have some relevance?”

“THE FACT THAT THESE IDIOTIC DOCTORS LET A HALF DEAD MAN SLINK OFF SOMEWHERE INTO THIS ABANDONED TRASH HEAP.” The spit almost made its way out of the speakers with how violently he shouted. “And that’s what I get for listening to sugar tits when it comes to security measures. Anyhoo, it would be greatly appreciated if you were all on the lookout today, thanks!” 

“This guy never knows when to stop.” Ava had the dumbest smile on her face. 

“I should’ve known.” Lilith let out a low chuckle, resting her head back on her knees. 

Tadashi lay on the ground, facing the see-through ceiling of their containment cell. It came as little surprise to him. How long had he been planning this? No, that wasn’t the actual question on his mind. Just how much of their fight was real for Jin?

Chapter Text

Jack let the cheers soak in, basking in the screams that surrounded all four sides of the pit. It was never-ending, they wouldn’t stop unless he made them.

“Good afternoon! I must thank all the wonderful people joining us for the second day of Jackshow’s Funshow and Bloodshow. I am sorry to disappoint you, but today will be much shorter. Only two fights!” he cried with an exaggerated frown. 

“As you all know, I may have gotten overzealous yesterday and brought out the three broken friends. And unfortunately my favorite toy, Jin Ushinatta, is too broken. We’ll need to keep him tucked away for now. I really can’t think of a way to make up for this, hmmmm…” He pressed a finger against his chin, tapping slowly. “I’m taking ideas, any ideas!?” 

A hodgepodge of different suggestions rained down from nearly every audience member. They all blended together, and none appealed to him—all but one suggestion he heard: 

“LET ME JOIN!”

Jack’s head snapped toward the source, greeted by gunmetal-grey hair and a smile even more batshit than his. He already liked what he saw, and more than that, it gave him an even brighter idea. Before addressing the man, he looked over at Ianira. He didn’t need to say anything for her to understand what he wanted.  

“GET DOWN HERE AND TELL US YOUR NAME!” 

The man launched himself over the railing, landing on his feet like a cat right beside Jack and Alicia. Without missing a beat, he brought his lips to the microphone. 

“IZA PETREA—I’M GOING TO SHOW YOU WHAT A REAL FIGHT LOOKS LIKE!”

Jack and Alicia exchanged glances for half a second. 

“Oh, I am confident you will. You and three others.” Jack quickly elaborated, turning his attention back to the audience. 

“AS OF NOW, THIS CONTEST WILL BE A FREE FOR ALL!” 

The shutter doors to the right began to open.

“OUT FIRST, we have the winner of last year’s tournament, what was the favourite for this year: the copycat, the unoriginal, Sir Plagarize, DANTE PERRISH!” 

Dante stepped out of the shutter, his eyes dragging on the ground. His breathing was stable and deep. He was completely focused 

“AND ON THE OTHER END, the fighter with our fastest recorded win time: THE BLACK WIDOW, MIKA KITAGAWA!”

“Black widow?” Alicia whispered to Jack, away from the mic.

“I’ve come to find out our little princess killed a husband of hers before I got her.” 

Mika stepped out from the shutters, much like last time more amused than concerned. The wedding band was formed, her eyes already burned a blazing red.

Just as Alicia started to walk away like every time, Jack gripped her shoulder and stopped her. 

“Not yet, no. AND OUR FINAL TWO CONTESTANTS: HAILING FROM THE SNOWY MOUNTAINS OF BUTT-FUCK MALAYSIA, THE TWIN TERRORS, GRAVITY GIRL AND BRICK BOY, KAMON AND NARAYAN SUSHIL SHARMA!” 

The two came out of the same shutters Mika had. The man was a hulking figure, while his twin sister beside him was on the shorter, frailer side. They were wearing clothing similar to the guards, except the armor and helmets were removed.

With all five in the pit, Jack and Alicia made their exit. The fighters were left to face each other. This was not a pit made to contain five people at once, especially ones with destructive Manifests. 

Mika’s wall pulled out of the floor and behind her. It was noticeably smaller than last time, barely bigger than her. “Who’s going to die first?” 

Dante took a step forward. “No one will be dying, certainly not to you.” His eyes were still on the ground, addressing the rest. “We take her out first, then we can fight. It’s clear allowing her to continue will only lead to more needless death. Is that a risk we’re willing to take?” 

The twins sided with Dante almost instantly, standing with him. 

Iza, on the other hand, was not as quick to join. “How cowardly, teaming up on this poor little girl? What kind of man would stand for that?” His sarcasm was obvious, but he still took Mika’s side. 

“It looks like we’ve got our fight, folks! Mika and Iza VS Dante and the Twin Terrors. Seeing as they’re just itching to fight, I won’t drag this on.” Alicia let out an interested hum. 

“FIGHT! And don’t kill each other.” 

Ink-like liquid appeared on the lower half of Dante’s face, dripping to the ground. “Keep her busy. You remember how my Manifest works.” 

The twins nodded in sync, taking fighting stances. A snake with inverted colours formed around each of their shoulders, wrapping their bodies..

Iza thrust his hand outward. A double-ended scythe slid out from under his skin, growing from a thin form until it was fully out of his palm.

Mika glanced over, sneering at his weapon. “How inconvenient and impractical.”

She reached into her flesh wall with both hands, pulling out a rapier made of hardened flesh in her right hand and a parrying dagger in her left. The eyes in the wall focused solely on Dante, the mouths snarling rather than speaking.

Iza launched himself toward the twins at the same time Mika did. He moved with finesse, gliding like he was skating, the massive scythe in his hands looking weightless as he swung it at the three. 

Kamon leapt over the blade, rolled onto the ground, ending up in front of Mika. Mika’s rapier pierced her shoulder, her dagger sent at Kamon’s neck—only to be struck aside when the snake shot out and hit Mika’s wrist, redirecting the blow. The dagger skimmed the top of Kamon’s head as she yanked it back.

Mika’s eyes flicked to her brother, who had stopped Iza’s scythe with his arm before it could strike Dante. Meanwhile, Dante was crouched, drawing a circle with the ink dripping from his mouth. 

Kamon wrenched the rapier out of her shoulder and kept her focus on Mika. She was practically foaming at the mouth, having no intentions of stopping her assault. 

Mika lunged again, her blade jabbing, then slashing down when it missed. Kamon scrambled on the floor, barely keeping ahead of the precise attacks. Mika’s form was tight, guarded, and every movement confident. There was no wasted motion, no gaps to exploit. 

Narayan, meanwhile, stayed close to Iza, forcing him into close quarters where the scythe was harder to swing. Both fighters needed footing for their abilities: Iza for forceful swings, Narayan to hold his ground. Dante needed time on the ground to complete his ritual. 

Kamon glanced at Narayan for just half a second and nearly died for it. The tip of Mika’s rapier was an inch from her eye, stopped only by the width of the palm she had brought up to defend herself. 

“THAT HURTS, YA KNOW!?” 

Her other palm came under the one she used to stop Mika from killing her. 

Her regard for Dante disappeared. She seemed to realize if she continued fighting Mika on equal footing, she would die. Suddenly, all five combatants were ripped from the floor and hurled into the air. Gravity itself shifted, sending them rushing toward the ceiling. It threw everyone off their game. 

Everyone except Mika.

Her flesh wall surged forward, engulfing her. Halfway up her trajectory she seeped out, a massive war bow in her hands. She pulled the string back effortlessly, a giant arrow forming into place. She pulled back incredibly far. Despite the size of the bow, there was no strain on her face.

Kamon barely had time to react. With a snap, the arrow flew aimed squarely for her chest, set to decimate it. In a snap second decision, Her snake launched itself from her arm, intercepting the arrow. It was shredded head to tail, slowing the shot just enough for Kamon to shift her gravity sideways. The arrow missed by a hair, smashing into the ceiling and cracking it. 

She crashed into the crowd, reverting her gravity as she laid on harsh concrete.

“YOU KILLED MY SNAKE!” She cried out.

“Looks like the unfortunate loss of her snake knocks the mountain dweller out of the fight for now,” Alicia chimed, anything but grieving.  

Mika landed on the ceiling with the others, pulling free of her wall completely and planting both feet firmly on the new ground. “That is not where I intend to stop.” 

Her gaze moved to Iza and Narayan, who were still locked in battle. Neither had lost a step since their landing: Narayan was accustomed to it, and Iza had adapted quickly. Dante, however, had been disrupted; Kamon’s earlier interference had reset his ritual entirely. 

Mika didn’t waste time. She slipped between the two men, beelining for Dante as he tried to start again. Her fist smashed into his jaw, then she caught his hair before he could fall and hurled him across the surface. He rolled hard, ink spilling everywhere, leaving him unable to form a proper circle.

“I want you to be the last to die. How many people did you think you needed to stop me? You should’ve doubled that number, then maybe you’d give me a challenge.”

“I’ve faced worse than you. I’m assuming you’re just as ugly on the outside as you are on the inside.” His words gurgled through the ink pouring from his mouth. 

“You’d be incorrect, I am beautiful.” 

Her flesh wall shifted, flying toward them. A meter before striking her back, it transformed into a massive drill, passing through Mika like she wasn’t there and toward Dante. 

He tried to dodge, but too late. The drill shredded his left arm before he collapsed hard against the ground. Ink poured from the wound instead of blood. 

Before Mika could finish him, gravity shifted again. Kamon had recovered in the crowd, dragging everyone back down from the ceiling.

Mika softened her impact by landing atop her wall, stepping off as it reformed beneath her. She stretched her arms, her eyes falling back on Dante. He was struggling to his feet with one arm missing and bleeding out ink. 

Kamon clawed her way back from the stands, intent on rejoining. But when she reached the railing, she froze. When her eyes came down to meet the pit, all there was was a massive floor of flesh. That was all that everyone could see. Mika had grown her wall to block out all light coming into the pit, which in turn, left the audience unable to witness the fight. 

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? YOU DOG EATING, YELLOW SKINNED—” the next few seconds of commentating were filled with colourful language directed at colourful people. Only once she had finished did Jack speak up, voice smooth as ever. 

“We apologize for the… inconvenience. All we can ask is patience. We’ll be able to see soon.” 

“What’s the point of a show if you can’t see the grand finale.” 

Though blind to the fight, the crowd could hear it: the screaming, smashing, and laughing echoing beneath the barrier. It went on for two whole minutes before the flesh finally retracted behind Mika’s back, revealing the pit again. 

Dante no longer lacked an arm. In place of the arm was a writhing cluster of smooth black tendrils shaped like one. His painted smile, exactly like Jack’s, gave away his second Manifest. A yo-yo dangling at his side confirmed a third.. 

Mika stood with only a moderate wound in her side

“Now would be a good time to mention the little-known fact that Dante is blind. He sees differently than the rest of us, which means the darkness only helped him!” Jack added. 

Iza and Narayan had stopped fighting each other, both turning on Mika. Unlike Dante, they were covered in wide, shallow cuts from the unseen brawl. Kamon finally dropped back into the pit, landing by her twin to complete the circle around Mika. The four of them surrounded her. 

“It appears the stupid dog has put herself in a bad situation. It’s now five on one!” Alicia called, before lowering her voice with a grin. “I’ll be back.”

“Five..?” Ianira muttered. 

The mic screeched as Alicia hurled it aside and slid into the pit, mallet in hand—brightly coloured, striped, and cartoonish. She stopped beside Dante, who stood in front of Mika. 

“It seems our green-haired minx has chosen to join the bloodshed!” Jack announced. The crowd roared.

Mika stood in the middle of the pit, between all of the others. Her flesh wall changed shape once more, though this time, it became a weapon itself. The wall formed into a halberd: axe on one side and hammer on the other. She waited for one of the five to make the first move, taking a defensive stance. 

Iza struck first, gliding forward and swinging his scythe down at her head. Dante moved with him, his tendrils lashing at her from all angles, separating from their tight-knit form. 

Mika pivoted, slamming the hammer end of the halberd into Iza’s weapon, knocking it wide. She turned and cleaved through several tendrils, but others smashed into her, flinging her back into the pit wall. 

She recovered quickly, ripping free and spinning to meet Iza halfway as he pressed the assault. Their weapons clashed in rapid succession, his scythe against her halberd. The twins closed in from either side. Narayan’s fist glowed with a blue-black aura as he swung for her head, striking the instant her halberd locked with Iza’s. His punch sent her tumbling across the ground, her weapon flying from her grasp. 

Kamon followed up immediately, shifting the pit’s gravity. Mika was hurled toward the ceiling. 

Alicia used Dante as a boost, launching herself after Mika. She swung her mallet with both hands, smashing into Mika’s raised arms. The force and gravity hurled her into the ceiling hard. 

Iza followed through the air, bringing the blade down toward her chest. Mika jammed the blade into her forearm, holding him close. Her halberd zipped back into her, the spear tip skewering through his stomach when she called it back into her hand. 

She was about to drive it into his throat when Dante stomped on her wrist, pinning it down. The halberd slipped from her grip, but instead of falling, it spun on its own, forcing Dante to jump away. 

Mika seized it again, grabbing Iza by the throat and flipping him beneath her. The hole in his stomach left him helpless. She rammed the spear straight through his collarbone, cracking the ceiling beneath them further.

Before she could finish him, Alicia’s mallet smashed into her face, knocking her away. She rolled, it took her little time to brush off the lingering effects of the blunt force trauma. Calling the halberd back into her hand, she had no time to waste as she stopped Narayan’s massive fist with the butt of the halberd. Her foot came up and slammed down on Kamon’s knee once she threw a kick. The counter left Kamon with one leg less to stand on, collapsing to the ground. 

A tendril looped around Mika’s throat, hoisting her in the air. At the same time, Kamon shifted gravity again, dragging them all down. Dante used his grip to drive her downward as Narayan leapt from the ceiling with both feet, slamming into her. Mika’s wall was chasing after her quickly.  

The impact was catastrophic. The concrete floor of the pit caved inward, splitting apart and forming a crater. Dust and debris filled the air.

“Oh.” was all Jack could muster. 

Silence followed. Then, as the dust thinned, the outcome was revealed.

Mika stood tall in the crater, blood streaming from a deep gash on her forehead, her neck bruised, her breathing ragged, but she stood.

Narayan, however, lay limp at her feet, both legs gone below the knees. His severed stumps still rested in her flesh wall. 

The situation became clear as the flesh wall pulled itself out of the ground and back upright beside Mika. She had to have used it at the last second to absorb the majority of the impact, allowing her to quickly recover with minimal injury. 

Iza’s unconscious body sprawled at the pit’s edge. Kamon had been knocked out cold against a wall by the collapsing platform as one half raised up where she was falling. 

Only three fighters were left: Mika, Dante, and Alicia. 

“YOU’RE RUINING THE SHOW, YOU SUB-HUMAN, JANK, YELLOW-CAB, NIP BITCH!” Alicia shrieked from the raised platform’s edge, barely clinging on. 

Mika smirked up at her. The wall shifted into a katana—the first Japanese weapon she’d Manifested this entire tournament. 

Alicia would sneer at her. Letting go of the edge she once held onto, her feet planted on the platform mid-way on her way down. She leaped, raising the mallet far above her head. 

Mika prepared for her on the ground, the blade of the katana facing the ceiling as she brought it above her head. 

Two tendrils snapped around her wrists, wrenching her arms back and leaving her open. The katana slipped from her grasp, flying independently. It severed the tendrils, but too late, Alicia’s mallet came crashing down. Mika blocked with her forearms, bracing against the blow. Their clash shook the pit, but Mika’s size and strength let her push back, forcing Alicia to the ground.

Alicia dug in her heels, smirking when she noticed Mika’s arms hung limp. “She can’t heal,” Alicia called to Dante. “She would’ve done it by now.”

“Do you think I need arms to combat either of you?” Mika’s words cracked Alicia’s confidence. 

The katana hovering near her head collapsed into a sphere, then split into three of them, circling her head. Each reshaped into a double-ended scythe identical to Iza’s. 

 “You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Alicia muttered, glancing at Jack. 

He shrugged. 

“Oh, fuck it. Come on then, you bitch.” 

Dante moved to the opposite side of Mika, tendrils writhing. The three scythes circled her head, patient. Neither opponent attacked, forcing Mika to act first. She launched at Alicia. Two scythes spun off behind her, slicing through Dante’s tendrils whilst the third slashed at Alicia.

The scythe would slash up towards Alicia’s head, forcing her to duck directly into Mika’s knee that sent her head back up. The scythe looped back, slashing up across Alicia’s torso, getting only a shallow cut. 

The scythe never stopped moving, it was exactly how Iza had moved his scythe but cleaner; there were no physical restrictions of speed or strength like this, the scythe moved with a skill that rivaled Iza’s, if not surpassed. The only thing she needed was the mental refinement to control everything at once. 

Alicia was unable to keep up with the scythe alone, slashes continued appearing along her body; her movements came a moment too late each and every time. The addition of Mika throwing sharp kicks within the small windows the scythe left made this an impossible task. 

“Unform your Manifest.”

Mika’s scythes unformed, The ring dissipating off her finger, her eyes returning to a normal light brown. 

Dante had finally made use of Jack’s Manifest, though it had its toll on him. A majority of the tendrils that made up his arm disappeared. 

Mika slammed her boot into Alicia’s chest, knocking the wind out of her. Her back met the hard concrete surface behind her. Alicia let herself slide down the wall, resting there on her ass. She did not find this worth it. Mika turned her attention back to Dante once Alicia had forfeited.  

Using the yoyo that was summoned earlier, Dante had set up a few dozen strings spanning the entire space between them. They wrapped around the platforms, the stands, and the debris. 

The path to Dante was impossible to rush through safely. She was sure to be cut by the razor sharp Manifest in an attempt to. He formed every last tendrils he could, ripping through his back and his sides.

“Looks like Dante is giving it one last Hail Mary. He’s putting his all into this final attack. Our big strong princess has been stripped of her Manifest temporarily. Things are coming to an end now!” Jack had been watching in silence for the most part. 

Mika scanned the obstacles in front of her no longer than a second before the tendrils slithered through the red strings and right for her. She noticed there were more strings closer to her, the back end of this trap field was looser in defense. 

Mika started with a walk, which became a jog, then a sprint.

She cleared the first line of string with a dive, twisting in the air and allowing the tendril that had been aimed for her face to slip past her. Her feet pressed against the shaft and propelled her body forward. The next two tendrils to come at her approached from both sides behind her. Mika lowered herself to the ground, head hung back, skimming the red string with her nose. Slamming her foot on the ground in front of her, Mika pressed it down and used it to turn, facing the tendrils which chased her closely. 

Thrusting her shoulders forward, both limp arms flew forward in the air. The tendrils penetrated either palm and carried her towards Dante quicker until he changed their trajectory upwards towards the ceiling. Her back was headed directly for a string. 

She swung her body forward, then backwards, then back forward high enough to place her feet on both of the tendrils; just before they met the red string, she kicked off the tendrils and completed her flip. 

The weight of her body coming back down after the flip ripped her palms free of the tendrils a moment before they crashed into the ceiling. She turned her body, plummeting right down into the field of strings. 

She zeroed in on Dante, having only a dozen strings and a few tendrils to get through before the two met. The savage grin on her face had only grown the closer she got to her prey. All seven remaining tendrils came at Mika together, forming a thicker tendril that would shred right through her. 

Having no way to avoid the tendril entirely, Mika opted to jut out her shoulder and allow her upper left torso to be decimated so that her body may roll on the thicker shaft of the tendril. Skating down it quickly, she had created a path leading right to her target.

Things weren’t that easy, the tendrils started to separate, leaving her unable to continue skating down them. The ends of the tendrils turned around to chase her, though she had a headstart. She kept her feet planted firmly on two of the separating tendrils, set on the safe ride towards Dante. It got to the point where her legs were almost completely split open. She maintained her balance, only having lasted this long because of her longer legs, but her footing was slipping and she had reentered the field of strings. 

Mika slipped off of them, placed back into a free-fall. She tucked her head forward and kicked her leg out, straightening, skimming through the fewer strings with ease and with minimal injury. 

Mika reached Dante, slamming her knees into his chest. He buckled under the weight of the tall woman, now on the ground beneath her; Mika had a knee pressed against his neck, the other on his fleshy arm.

She dug him deeper into the concrete, catching her breath. Despite how easy she made it look, it became impossible to hide how much it took out of her. In the heat of the moment, she had forgotten about the tendrils behind her. They pierced her in rapid succession, sending her off of Dante and directly into the ground. She was pinned down by all seven tendrils. 

“It’s over, girl.” Dante was back on his feet, drawing closer to Mika. He stopped at her feet, his gaze shifting from the woman writhing underneath him over to Jack. 

“I’m winning again, Jack.”

“You’re a fool.” She spat.

Dante’s eyes snapped back to Mika, he saw movement coming from her stomach area. He narrowly avoided it by jumping back—the flesh katana had phased through her stomach. 

“How!? I took her Manifest!” He hardly got out of range in the surprise.

Dante was still in the air, unable to move when the katana changed form into a spear, driving up into his stomach. The force was so intense that it snapped every string on the way up. The only thing that could stop his momentum was the ceiling that he now hung limp from, pinned up by the spear.

“That is why energy output and refinement is important; if that was me, she wouldn’t have gotten her Manifest back until I dismissed mine.” Jack sounded all too pleased. 

“Yeah, ok.” Alicia rejoined the two on commentary once the fight was over. “AND WE HAVE OUR WINNER, THE APPARENTLY INVINCIBLE, MIKA KITAGAWA!”

Mika hadn’t stayed on the ground long, getting back to her feet quickly despite the various sizable holes in her. She refused to take her victory in a position of weakness. Her eyes came up to see the result of what she had done to Dante. The state of his unconscious body brought her great pleasure. That pleasure was quickly replaced with intrigue. The ceiling was still cracking. 

“You have a problem, Jack.” She stated simply. 

Alicia was the first to look up at it. “Ezra—” 

“Not a-fricking-gain.” Ezra groaned.

One more crack, then two, three, four, and the ceiling caved inwards, giving way to the force above. Three people descended from the massive hole in the ceiling, dropping in a triangle formation, back to back. Dante’s body flew off with the impact, crashing into the crowd.

“NOT THIS TIME!” 

Not even a few feet into the descent, the three of them turned their attention to Ezra, who had shot off into the air; Ezra reeled back the marotte which had pushed out from under his sleeve and firmly into his grip. He held it by the head rather than the bottom, pink energy quickly shot out from the underside of the head to the end in multiple threads, the strings of energy tangling together tightly like cotton candy on his marotte. 

His target had been set on the woman facing him. She had raised her arms in the half second it took for his marotte to crack across her. The force would’ve surely shattered them if it had not been for the man to the left of her pulling the woman back. 

The action was rendered useless when the energy building at the end of Ezra’s marotte lashed out like a whip, wrapping around her neck. With two flicks of his arm, she was hurled forwards then back through the air and into her two comrades. 

They were successful in catching her, but their landing was completely screwed up. They ended up on the slanted platform rather than the ground, rolling down it roughly, needing to regain their footing. The tallest man set the bag around his shoulder down hastily.

Ezra landed on the ground gracefully, right beside Mika who had stood there, watching. 

“I don’t suppose you’d lend me a hand, Princess?” 

“You guessed correctly. I’ll be watching you.” Mika brushed him off coldly, leaving to the stands. 

Ezra never truly took his attention off the three in front of him. He recognized two of the three as Fate Providence members; Victoria Santos and Morfran Ithell, a pair which had crashed his last event. There was a lean degenerate who he did not recognize, though. His hair was dull and dying, and his skin plastered with tattoos from his neck to the tips of his fingers, originating from different cultures across the world. 

He was a walking armory: from the two large handguns he held, the MP7 submachine gun strapped on the inside of his long coat, the compact revolver shotgun strapped along his thigh, and the few other concealed firearms he definitely had, there was no lack of firepower when it came to him.

“You’re bad at hiding, Jack!” Victoria stepped towards him first. 

Her palm came forward and five poker chips formed in it. Her fingers closed around them and she shook before tossing them into the air. Ezra had a good recollection of her Manifest, even a year after the last incident. Her Manifest was grounded in chance; when the chips were tossed into the air, they came down as different poker hands every time. Every hand aligned with a different ability. 

Then there was Morfran, a walking autopsy in appearance: His skin was devoid of colour, just a pale blue. His Manifest was simple in the worst way possible; when his Manifest activated, stitches grew across his body under his neck, digging deep in his skin and segmenting him into pieces. In this state, the stitches held him together loosely, rendering blunt force nearly useless on him. Where Victoria’s complex Manifest could work in his favour, simplistic Manifests like Morfran’s would always pose a consistent challenge—for anyone who wasn’t on Ezra’s level. 

“I’ll remind you that you have tried this once. You were lucky to escape last time… that is not an opportunity you will be afforded this time. But, there is fun to be had.” There was a playfulness in Ezra’s voice. The direction of his words turned away from them. “I don’t suppose you’ll let me deal with this?” 

“No, enjoy the time you get now. It’s all the time you should give them.” Ianira’s voice got distant as she left the commentary stand. 

“Let’s hope he makes this a good one, folks! Don’t go anywhere just yet, the real main event starts now! On the side of justice and the righteous, the magnificent Jack Trades! And opposing him, on the side of the illegals and the thuggish, Fate ProviSHIT!” Alicia stayed to watch, speaking to a fleeing crowd.

Victoria seemed hesitant on rushing forward, moving either way until a tattooed hand grasped her bicep to stop her. Her head snapped back at the source.

“We don’t have time to waste, dude!” Victoria snapped at him.

“You and beanpole focus on setting the other charges. I’ll hold him off.” The degenerate appeared to have little reservations in facing Ezra, teeming with conviction

As Victoria was about to argue with the decision, Morfran pulled her away from him and the incoming fight. The two of them ran off into the stands with the bag he had set down earlier. 

It would be no exaggeration to say this gave Ezra a hard-on. “You’re not allowed to disappoint me now. Give me a reason to use my Manifest.” 

“Yeah, Yeah… en garde, asshole.” He raised both handguns and fired at Ezra in unison. 

It took little effort for Ezra to zip past the two bullets and directly in front of the degenerate before the flash of the barrels even disappeared. His marotte followed behind a fraction slower than his initial movement.

 A fraction was all the man needed to raise his elbow in the way of the shaft, blocking it to the best of his ability. Ezra could gauge that their strength was not equal when the block failed to completely stop him. The man’s body turned with the force and a crack.

Ezra’s eyes continuously scanned the man, looking for his next move. He trailed down from his shoulder to the arm which had gone behind his long coat. He reacted solely to the sound of the pistol firing, his body darting into the air.

He landed a few feet away from him, reevaluating. There was a massive hole in his coat where he had tucked the handgun. The attempt would have blown open his stomach. The two men now were right back where they started. 

“.50 AE ammunition, primed to blow a hole right through you,” the degenerate started, smug. “The truth is, Jack, I have been preparing for this since I heard about you. Everyone kept telling us to avoid clashing with you head on—god, especially alone… but I’m not buying into the hype. You’re not special, and I’ve never met someone who I couldn’t hit. I tag you once, and you’re as good as gone—do you think you can avoid that?” 

Ezra remained in place, listening to every demeaning word that exited his mouth. The excitement he had felt earlier was replaced with something else entirely. Clear as day, there was a big ol’ frown on his face. “Now that just wasn’t nice… giving me a rude lecture? Stalling for your friends? Not nice in the slightest. I’m going to teach you a lesson—do your best to remember this.”

Similar to earlier, a few dozen strings of energy tangled to create this thick, tightly packed energy on the shaft of the marotte. It grew off the shaft and created a whip that dragged on the ground behind him when Ezra walked towards the degenerate. 

He raised both pistols in his hands, handling them easily, neither the weight or the recoil of the weapons hindered him. He let off multiple rounds at Ezra, every last one swatted off by the twirling of the marotte in Ezra’s hand. 

The speed at which Ezra was twirling the marotte caused dust and bits of rubble to rise into the air, fogging the already hard to traverse arena in a thick plume that rose past the stands, filling the entire room. 

The firing ceased once the arena was completely filled, both of their visibility being reduced to just a foot in front of them. Ezra was no longer approaching him from the front.  

“Resorting to cheap tricks? Are you seriously trying to sneak up on me? COWARD!” The man was screaming in all directions. 

This was advantageous for Ezra. He had a trick up his sleeve that he was confident his opponent didn’t. He closed his eyes and focused exactly as he was taught to do. The faint sense of another entered his space. His skin buzzed, the hairs on it standing up. All of it led him to the blurry presence ahead of him. 

He lunged at him from the side, swinging his marotte into the man’s wrist, shattering the bone easily. The pistol dropped out of his hand. Ezra caught him by the throat before he had time to completely process his attack. He had slipped his marotte back under his sleeve and grabbed the other wrist firmly, keeping his gun pointed at the air. 

“There’s your lesson, cunt. Fights are determined by ability, by which man is stronger than the other. But real conflict… life or death… strength has nothing to do with it. A killer doesn’t need strength to win. A weak man can beat a strong man by simply stripping him of what makes him strong. But that never mattered. I am stronger, and better than you.” Ezra spoke to him how one would a child, no sense of equivalence. 

“How… preachy.” The man growled at him. 

Ezra felt him trying to fight against his strength but he was overpowered like this. In a pathetic act of desperation, he watched him fire into the air two times. 

Ezra’s eyes left the barrel of the gun and returned to the degenerate’s. His pupils had gone from a typical black to bright golden crosshairs. 

He released him just in time to jump to the side. The two .50 AE caliber bullets that had been fired into the air earlier returned to strike him in the back. They weren’t done, following the man’s gaze to Ezra, they redirected and gave chase. 

Every step Ezra took launched him in a direction that the bullets followed him in. He couldn’t escape them, and he did not have the time to summon his marotte. He was truly on the defensive for the first time in the fight. 

With the speed that Ezra was moving at, the smoke that once completely filled the arena was now blowing upwards and further fogging the stands. The space within the arena was visible again, giving them clear sight of each other. 

The man was on his knee, he was holding a MP7 in his functioning hand, the underside of the barrel resting on his thigh to keep stable. He unleashed precise bursts of rounds in the instants that Ezra stopped to take his next step. Each and every time, Ezra was avoiding them by the skin of his teeth. 

He was in the process of thinking up a plan when he caught onto the fact that the .50 AE bullets were beginning to steer off course, struggling to follow him when compared to the precision shown earlier. So, that was the catch to his ability—all Ezra had to do was wait for the moment he lost control. 

“You must have a name?! Go on, terrorist, tell me who you are!” Ezra made conversation while slipping past another storm of MP7 rounds. 

“Fat chance. You want to find that out, come a get m—” 

Ezra stepped off and right at the degenerate. It gave him a chance to fire upon Ezra once more. With his target coming right at him, the man shifted the barrel a few degrees up on his knee, unloaded the rest of the dwindled clip from Ezra’s stomach up to his face. 

Given the speed of his approach with the speed of the rounds, the best Ezra could do was adjust himself mid lunge. One round clipping his chest, another grazing the side of his face, but that was the extent of the damage. None of the MP7 rounds redirected themselves as they whizzed past. 

Planting one foot on the ground, the other came up, punting the MP7 out of his hand. It skid across the floor. Ezra had finally got the chance to slip his marotte from under his sleeve by the time he was in front of the degenerate. The end of the shaft coming for his chin. 

The man rolled underneath it, his hand reaching to the thigh opposite of it, gripping the revolver shotgun. It came out of the holster easily, the barrel swiping in the direction of Ezra. He clicked the hammer down and fired a buckshot. 

This didn’t come as a surprise to Ezra, who had already been in the process of creating distance between them by leaping backwards. His energy had already packed back around the shaft of the marotte when the pellets reached him. 

He swung for the pellets but they redirected themselves in differing directions, coming at him from all sides; Concurrently to that realization, the man had let off three more buckshots, going to empty the entire cylinder at once.  

His eyes darted around at many pellets that were coming at him. He was unable to deflect them all in his current state, now too slow. Practically everyone had left, all he had was Alicia and the prisoners watching him now. 

“Return to sender.” His Manifest formed in a last resort.

Every pellet that Ezra had seen come for him shot back at the man. Splitting off from each other and outlining around him at the last second when he just barely wrestled back control. 

Ezra pressed a finger down on the head of his marotte, swinging it through the air, the shaft slipped off and crashed into the revolver shotgun, taking it out of the man’s hands.

The degenerate ended up with the tip of Ezra’s blade poking into his throat before he made any more attempts to grab a firearm. He brought his arms up halfway, giving a half-hearted surrender. 

“You surprised me for a moment, but that’s all there was to your challenge. It was surprise, not strength. But before I kill you, feel free to give some nice parting words to the winner.”

“You didn’t win anything, smartass. This was a draw.” His eyes shifted behind Ezra. 

Ezra glanced back, noticing a pellet that was frozen in motion a few inches behind his head. 

“You continue to impress. It would’ve been a delight to have you in my tournament… Mr..?” 

“Roland Yarrow—that’s the name of the guy who just stalled you. Sometimes it’s not about winning the fight, just winning the battle. There’s your lesson.” The smug nature of his words trailed off when Ezra’s smile grew. 

“If that was your goal, you’ve lost. It would be naive to think I didn’t take precautions this time.” 

All noise in the arena disappeared, along with the air, both of which were now sucked violently into the white line that appeared out of nowhere, unraveling a thread in their space. 

The head of a man, white as snow, seeped out of the blank space in the middle of the arena. His head was followed by the rest of his body, which was followed by the limp bodies of Victoria and Morfran. Only once he completely exited the line did it disappear, their space rethreading itself. 

The snow white man stood tall, releasing the bodies he had brought with him. He stood stoic, surveying the damage before he spoke. “The promise you made?” The voice croaked deeply out of a metal throat. Every bit of the man underneath his nose was rusted steel machinery. From his jaw to the bottom of his feet, his body had been remoulded for efficient service. 

“I’ll make up for it,” Ezra kept his tone light. “Honestly, between you and that decomposing corpse… I am happy it’s you. For now, we need to clean up this mess up, don’t we?”

“Not we—me.” 

The sight of his comrades unconscious and being outnumbered caused Roland to drop his Manifest. The pellet fell to the ground with a small ping. “Fuck you.”

The cyborg approached Roland, reaching forward and dragging him by the collar of his long coat, forcing him to kneel beside his two accomplices. 

“Wake the two of them. I have one simple question that I need answered.” He demanded of Roland. 

Roland hesitated for a second, but did shake the two awake as ordered. He was only able to wake Victoria—Morfran was alive yet unresponsive. 

It was hard for Victoria to hide the seething hatred she felt for the cyborg who paced a few steps in front of her. She moved to her hands and knees, they were visibly shaking underneath her. 

“You’re going to tell me the location of Orlin Luther. If I ask more than once, I will kill one of you. Who it is, you will see. If I get what I need, you will live to see the death sentence.” His tone left no space for misinterpretation. This was a deal, not a threat.

The two who were conscious kept their lips sealed. All they could do in their silence was watch as he reached for the handgun attached to his side. He pulled it out of its holster, guiding the barrel along the three until he ended up on Morfran. 

“We would rather die than sell out the only man who has the strength to change the world.” Roland spoke out when the barrel landed on Morfran.

When he turned his head to look at Roland, the glob of spit that was shot out of Roland’s mouth landed right under his eye. He did not give a facial reaction to the act—instead, he put three bullets into Morfran. One in his throat, another two in his heart. Morfran did not wake, only shifting with the force of each bullet.

“I will try this again. Where is Orlin Luther? His death is eventual, just as yours is. You have the choice to live long enough to make amends, or die as scum on their knees.” The ball of spit had trailed down from his eye, right beside his mouth and dripped off his chin. 

Neither Victoria nor Roland moved to check on Morfran, neither made a comment on the execution of their friend.  Their gaze was on the floor beneath them, seeming to accept their fate in silence rather than give up Orlin Luther. 

He gave them five seconds, then fired another round directly into Roland’s stomach. The bullet lodged itself inside of him as he collapsed onto his back. The blood spurting out of his stomach stained his white wife beater, beginning to pool on the floor beneath him. 

“You defend a fraud. A man who is nothing more than a terrorist wearing the veil of freedom—of a saviour? How many people have been saved with these repeated attacks? How pathetic a cause that requires so many deaths and benefits so few? You need not die in this dirty shithole… Do you have no dignity? Do you not want to die clean? At peace with your life?” ‘Tears’ began to well in his eyes, oil-esque liquid dripping from them. They ran down his cheeks, painting his blank skin black. He took a moment to let the tears fall, once they stopped, he raised the sleeve of his trench coat and wiped them dry. “Such wasted youth. I will tell your comrades of how you died here today—and only hope that they value themselves enough to die useful.” 

The end of his barrel pressed against Victoria’s forehead. He did not get the chance to fire, changing his focus to swiping his free hand down through the air, creating the same blank line in space. Roland had pulled a compact revolver out of the hidden holster in his boot. All six bullets which were fired entered the space, the sound of the gun not reaching their ears—once again, it was completely silent. The blank line stole the sound and anything else it could get from the room they stood in. The aim of his barrel left Victoria and went to Roland. 

“It was an ambitious, yet futile gesture.” His voice kept its calmness, it was the only thing that could be heard.

Victoria no longer hesitated to try and save Roland. Her hand jut out in front of her, her legs carrying her up to grab the gun that was used to execute Morfran, and if given a moment, Roland. The attempt she made was left fruitless when he side stepped her, leaving his leg in her way. Victoria was tripped into the blank space which rethreaded behind her. 

Roland was completely alone. The wound in his stomach hadn’t stopped bleeding, the blood had formed a big puddle underneath him. With no distractions, the cyborg fired a shot into Roland’s collar, above his left pec. The force of it left him flat on the ground, pressing on the wound desperately. 

“You fight so hard, and for what? Fate Providence has made no difference in four years. People demand change, of course, it’s human nature—then they receive that change and become unsatisfied. When will the institutions you create be enough to satisfy your hunger? Society needs a muzzle, one that can not be removed for it will devour itself when given the chance.”

There was an exaggerated sniffle that came from the right of the two. “Beautiful… so… beautiful, Miguel!” Ezra cried out, his voice cracking with ecstasy. He leaned on his marotte, wiping his eyes frantically with his sleeves. There were no tears. “Oh my goodness! You have such a vast and lovely soul! Now get the fuck out of my arena!” He was still ‘crying’, wiping his dry eyes drier, he finally spoke normally. “You’ve played around long enough. Hurry up with it or move on. I didn’t ask them to bring someone here to play professor.” 

“He makes a point.” Ianira called to them from the commentary stand, back with Alicia.

Miguel holstered his gun without argument. “You need to learn decorum. But, I don’t want to spend any longer here either way. I will take both of them and deal with this appropriately.” 

“Erm… not quite. Can I pretty please keep one of them—for the funsies of it all.” Ezra gave him the widest puppy dog eyes. 

“Don’t push your lack of influence, Walsh.” He spoke through gritted machinery. 

“Ianira will push her magnitude of influence for me—now c’mon, hurry up and give me one.” 

It did not take Miguel long to make his decision. Creating the same blank space, he ripped Victoria out of it instantly, tossing her to the ground in front of Ezra. He took Roland for himself, who had lost enough blood to leave him incapacitated. 

“Welcome back to reality. Why don’t we get you back to your partners in crime… Victoria Santos.” 

Her gaze came up and met his cruel eyes which were just inches from hers when he crouched. The pair of them were horribly mean, and brutally unrelenting in their judgement. The quivering of her lip and blurring of her vision gave her away, she was terrified; she had failed miserably at everything she came here to do.

Chapter Text

Victoria hadn’t moved an inch since he placed her in the cell with the others. There were no words for this other than ‘humiliation’. The minute they crashed through that roof, they should have known they were far out of their depth. She was always out of her depth; Victoria would rather be anywhere else in the world right now, anywhere that let her get out of Ava’s hold. Ava had been all over her since she got in the cell: hugging, reassuring, comforting, hugging, comforting, reassuring, assuring—Victoria was not assured. 

“Vicky, are you with me?” The tender way Ava spoke broke Victoria out of her self-wallowing trace. 

“Yeah. I’m… not really with you,” it was quiet admission, small and contained. 

Ava’s hug loosened, retreating onto her knees. Her fingers still pressed into Victoria’s flesh. It was an uncomfortable feeling; Victoria was undeserving of her touch, she didn’t want Ava to be in front of her right now. There had always been nothing more she wanted than Ava to be right in front of her since they split up.

Shrill scratch.

“Well damn, wasn’t that something? As you all likely saw on the TVs, our newest guest was part of a three way fucking of yours truly. I’ve always lived by the philosophy that the show will go on regardless of what you put in its way.Unfortunately, after some cumbrous debating, we have decided to end the tournament here. The arena is destroyed, spirits are crushed, and I have some business to deal with. Seeing as this is the case, I announce it as a tie between Mika, Ava, and Lilith! Now, if any of these ladies would like to flash the camera in celebration, they are more than welcome to, if not, Jack’s signing out!”

“Yaaay” Ava brought her hands up and wiggled them in weak celebration. 

Lilith’s only response was a relieved huff. If any of them bothered to look close enough, there was an accomplished smirk there. 

Victoria’s eyes closed when she heard Jack’s voice, but came back open with the sound of Ava standing up, moving away from her. It was the first time she had done that since Victoria was put in front of her. Why did it hurt that she did that? Victoria buried her face in her knees, trying to ignore the salt in her eyes. 

“If I meet Osuke, Lyric, or Selene like this, I will absolutely lose my shit,” Ava’s words were mumbled. For some reason, she had turned her gaze over to Tadashi, who sat in the corner, staring out of the cell. “If that Manifestless shit Jin left us here I’m going to make him testicleless as well.”

Tadashi’s confusion at Ava’s attention disappeared with the mention of Jin. It elicited a groan from him. 

“He didn’t go anywhere. He wouldn’t go anywhere. One, he’s too stupid to sneak out of here. Secondly, y’know he’s not the type to leave us here, not even to get help. He’s somewhere here, I’m sure it’s hard to believe in Jushi, but you just gotta.” His voice dragged on their nerves more than usual. 

“It’s pointless. Why should we bother, Tadashi?” Victoria took her face out of her knees only to glare at him. “It’s your fault I’m here.” 

“Oh, cool, so that’s commonplace.” Ava piled onto him with Victoria. 

Tadashi brought a hand out at the two of them, giving it a few cranks before it fully charged the middle finger he stuck at them. He was unusually intolerant of their shit right now. 

“Victoria is here because she’s playing terrorist, and Ava along with crony one and crony two are here because they chose to play detective. Y’know why I’m content? I chose to be here. I’m not fooling myself. I’m exactly where I belong. I am well aware of who I am.” There was a blunt defensiveness in his tone. 

Ava rolled her eyes at his finger, returning it except she shook her hand so she clearly meant it much more. “Jin and Lilith wanted to be detectives, I followed them because I was bored and wanted to reunite with some nice friends of mine. Since I made that decision, I’ve seen over half of you again in the shittiest ways. Which, I clearly am having so much fun doing.” She sighed into her hands, running them down her face. “Might as well ask, has anyone even seen the other three recently?” 

Victoria flicked her dark hair out of her face, piping in. “I saw Lyric a few days ago. He was the usual.”

“So, gay? Probably at a book store or starbucks, got it.” The words left Ava’s mouth instinctually. She looked almost guilty before that washed over with a smile, which was quickly rubbed away with her hands. 

It was not by choice that the image of Lyric’s little twink ass standing in front of her with a plushie and a frappuccino flashed in Victoria’s mind. She unwillingly chuckled, shaking her head. “Pretty gay.” 

Any joy either woman felt faded when they locked gazes again. It happened every time they got a chance to look at each other. 

“I’m sorry we couldn’t be there to help you, Vicky.” Ava broke the connection quickly.

“Yeah, we wanted to help, but there wasn’t much we could do from here.” Lilith was quick to tack on.

The somber words made Victoria bury her face in her hands again; she was doing her best to get the salt in her eyes to go away. Her face felt so incredibly hot, like she could try sizzling eggs on it. “It was a mistake coming here. We should have seen this coming; now Roland is caught, and I have no idea where they put Morfran.” Victoria stumbled up onto her feet. “Please tell me you have a way out of here.” 

“We would have a way out if there was any way to make a distraction. Better yet, if Jin decides to do whatever he plans on doing, that would be nice.” Tadashi stood, same as the rest of them. There seemed to be an unspoken consensus that they couldn’t sit around much longer.

Shrillest scratch yet. 

“ORRRRRR, you could remember I’m listening. I mean, if you’re going to talk about escape plans, do it privately, dipshits.” The speakers picked up a few thumps on the other end. “That’s me slapping you on the wrist a few times. Quit planning your escape, rascals—althoughhhh, you’ll be pleased to know that you’re getting out of here. The fighting is over, and luckily the group of you get special treatment. Be sure to say bye to the rest of these guys on your way out.” 

All four of their heads turned to the door consecutively when it slid open. Standing there was a familiar face: Marcel a.k.a Burning Boy. He was being accompanied by three guards, covered head to toe in armor and armed to the teeth. 

“Move them all together.” Marcel ordered simply, his eyes narrowing. 

“Maybe they’re planning on letting us all free. I miss my bed.” Lilith started hustling along already.

“In your dreams. We’re not going home.” Ava was evidently dejected.

<><>

She picked at the corner of her nail with her thumb. She was having a hard time breaking the corner of her nail off. The rest of it had gone in the cell, but this stubborn little nail at the corner of her ring finger wouldn’t chip off. There was a sense of comfort in the cell, at least, a sense of knowing what to expect. There had been an order to the fights. It was a tournament; she had been in tournaments before; she had been in basketball tournaments, she had been in track tournaments, she had been in swimming tournaments, she had been in every sort of sports tournament imaginable. Obviously fighting to the death is different from sports for her, at least it should be. 

She stopped picking at her stubborn nail to take a look at the back of the semi-truck. Red lights bathed over them, much the same as the cell. She did not like red anymore, and at one point in her life, she was pretty fond of the colour red. They were unbound in the back of the truck, locked in the back of the truck, stuck in the back of the truck with Marcel. None of them were able to form their Manifests back here; Ava had given it a shot a few minutes into their journey but nada. Given what they knew about Marcel, they had no choice but to sit pretty or melt. 

“How long of a ride is this exactly? I can only handle so much of Tadashi’s stench.” She pinched her nose jokingly.

Marcel looked at Ava through the wave of long hair that covered his hung head. He brought it up, a puff of smoke rising between the lips that held a cigarette halfway done. “I do not know. Am I a clock, Madam? Do I tick tock tick? Do you hear ticking from me? No? Because I am not a clock.” Marcel was grouchy. His tired gaze returned to the cause of his foul mood. 

“A hard work, is what they say, hard work, work; a hard work, to earn my pay, hard work, work; a hard work, do it everyday, hard work, work; I ge—” Victoria retreated into her shell when they got in the truck, coping with the situation by flexing her vocal muscles. That was put to an end with a still lit cigarette to her cheek. She wiped the ash off, furrowing her brows at Marcel. “What the hell!” 

“Stop being annoying. Stay like your friends, not singing.” Marcel didn’t hide his amusement. 

That did not sit right with Ava. There was a twitch in her eye. The issue was always going to be that she could not resort to violence with Marcel. Given that thought, Ava realized that she knew how to peacefully protest, they used to do it all the time. With a deep breath of preparation, she protested. 

“Ever on and on, I continue circling with nothing but my hate in a carousel of agony—” 

“I am not listening. Mimimimimimimimimimimi.” Marcel made noises to drown out her singing. 

At this Ava raised the volume of her singing to surpass his noises. The two of them were now locked into a vocal battle, a battle that Ava was confident she could demolish him in. Neither of them gave in even after they went past the point of simply screaming. Ava no longer sang, shouting the lyrics of the song right at Marcel; Victoria had joined Ava at some point, slapping her hands on her knees to cause more of a ruckus. Tadashi on the other hand joined the side of Marcel, making the same noises as him. 

“SHUT UP!” Lilith broke past all volume. “I CAN’T TAKE THIS ANYMORE! JUST SHUT UP ALREADY!” 

The truck went completely silent. 

No one said anything; no one was looking at each other. The shouting brought them back to their senses.

“S—” Ava didn’t get the chance before her body hurled to the back of the truck.

She was quickly joined by the rest of them, excluding Tadashi who had somehow ended up on his feet, perfectly fine. The truck had come to a screeching halt, tossing them thanks to their lack of restraints. Marcel had to dig himself out of the pile of women to stand.

“Stupid drivers. Stupid idiot drivers.” He muttered to himself, taking a step to the locked doors.

All movement in the back of the truck stopped at the sound of four distinct gunshots. There were a few second intervals between each one. Every shot was specific, closer towards the back of the truck. It stopped right in front of the double doors.

“Is that for us, the carnival, or both..?” Ava whispered to them, concerned. 

“Only one way to find out.” Lilith sat up, leaning on the wall beside her.  

Marcel already slid his handgun from the waistband of his pants. His aim stuck to the door, taking a knee and staying silent. He made no moves, seemingly listening for anything. 

The tension broke with a storm of bullets that ripped through the truck. Marcel dove backwards: by some act of god, he avoided being hit; by some act of the devil, his landing made him lose grip of the gun.

The left door came open just a crack, the barrel of a rifle poking through. 

“On your knees, turn around!” The voice was muffled by something. 

Marcel did not argue with the barrel, doing as ordered. Only once he had taken the position asked of him did the man step into the back of the truck. They recognized him as the largest of the armoured men who joined Marcel to transport them. Once behind Marcel, he pushed him to the ground and placed a knee atop the small of his back. “Hands behind you.” He wasted no time in restraining him with one of the handcuffs on his belt. 

The armoured man stood up, pulling his helmet off.

Then he pulled down his mask.

It was Jin. 

“Well then, that worked out well.” His pride was off the charts.

“How did—wha—dude. How?” Ava was tripping over her words. 

“About time.” Lilith pushed off the wall to exit, crossing her arms as she passed Jin, fussy. 

Victoria pushed past Jin roughly. “Real useful, asshole.”

Tadashi’s face was a mix of conflicting emotions, hard to decipher, but none of them were surprise. “You have bad timing. We could have used you earlier, Jin.” 

“Talk about a warm welcome.” Jin grumbled, starting to remove the heavy armour weighing on him. 

Ava approached him directly while the rest left. Now it was only Jin, Tadashi, and her left. “Thanks,” she chewed on her lip, thinking about what to say. “Vicky lost two of her friends. She has a right to be pretty upset; just be nice to her, Jin. We need to get out of the shit before we argue.” She whispered to them. 

“I’ll try to keep that in mind.” Jin had gotten the vest off, letting it hit the floor. 

“You’re good now?” Tadashi’s voice was quiet, he was just staring at Jin.

“Better, I healed up fine.” 

“That’s good” Tadashi stepped past Jin, out of the exit. 

“Whatever that is… fix it, as soon as we’re out.” Ava gave Jin the look before following Tadashi.

Two things happened simultaneously when Ava leaped from the truck: She was hit by the rush of chill October breeze, and a thick fog that filled her lungs. The influx of air in combination with fog sprung her into a small coughing fit. She wiped the building tears from her eyes quickly, wanting to see where they were. The unfortunate sight of massive spruce trees bordering both sides of the road, which spanned all the way past the thick fog, meant she knew exactly where they were. It was Rosewood’s coveted rose wood forest. She could count on five hands how often she heard about the fantastical vast and dense forest made primarily of rosewood trees in North America. She never understood the city’s pride in a bunch of trees, but she went along with it. Despite the nice aesthetics of this, it was the worst place to be in their situation. 

“Wow, we’re so finished.” She looked at the others, who had bunched together.

“Have some pride. We are somewhere beautiful, somewhere full of history. I wouldn’t rather be lost anywhere else.” Lilith gripped her blazer, closing it tighter.

“Yeah, you’re so full of shit.” Ava waved at her dismissively. 

Victoria stood at the border between road and forest. She hadn’t so much as twitched since she got to that position. “One of you needs to have an idea of where we go next.” 

“None of us do. The forest is massive, and we weren’t in the truck long before it stopped, we’re lost; however, standing around here waiting for them to catch onto what happened isn’t much better. We go into the forest and hike a bit; once we’re in the clear, we can screw about and plan, right?” Tadashi was dusting down his shirt.  

“Five high school dropout delinquents going into a foggy forest hiding from an evil clown posse.” Ava laughed quietly. “That’s a youtube title.”

Ava’s gaze ended up on Victoria’s back. Ava had been all over her, she was aware of that—like a puppy who missed its owner. It was pathetic, definitely overbearing, but it was all she could do. No matter what she said, Victoria’s eyes weren’t going back to how they were; they were dim, they were tired. She knew her best friend; she knew Victoria was fading. Continuing to bother Victoria was going to be bad for both of them, she was aware of this yet she took the step anyway. 

She tripped forwards, faceplanting on the asphalt. She had used her hands to minimize the damage that was sure to happen otherwise. The fall, of course, pissed her off. She pushed herself to the side, turning sharply to yell at the source. 

She had tripped over the corpse she failed to process when taking in her surroundings. There was a blood soup filled with shredded flesh, eyeball chunks, and shattered bone sitting inside of the eyesocket of the man. The sight made her gag, turning around and vomiting a translucent mess of yellow, her stomach barren and unable to regurgitate food. “WHAT THE FUCK, MAN!?” She wiped her lips clean, hard and repeatedly.  

“You should watch where you’re stepping, Ava.” Jin was standing over her, hand outstretched. 

She smacked his hand away, planting hers on the ground. She pushed upwards, a good distance from him. “You didn’t want to fucking warn us? What is wrong with you!? You couldn’t have like fucking moved the corpses before coming in? Ew. EW! I DIDN’T WANT TO SEE THAT SHIT!” She held back nothing. Halfway through her outburst, she became aware it wasn’t sensible, but the image in her head kept her screaming. 

Jin took the yelling in stride, shrugging at Ava slowly. “I don’t know what you expected. You heard me shoot, there wasn’t another way. When it comes down to them or you, they don’t have value to me.”

“Forget about it. What are we going to do with the French?” Tadashi got between them. 

“We can let Jin in the back of the truck so he can kill him too.” Ava spat at him, stuck with the image. 

“If Tadashi is right and more do show up, he could point them in our direction. Seeing as this is Jin’s plan, I believe we should leave it up to our supposed leader.” An attempt at sarcasm was made with Lilith’s closing statement.

Jin stared down at Ava. He didn’t acknowledge either Tadashi or Lilith. He was staring with something Ava couldn’t make out. She didn’t know Jin like the others; in high school, Jin seemed like a dork, determined, yet a lanky idiot she knew was her friend; she didn’t recognize what was standing in front of her. She had no idea who this was; she wasn’t sure why she felt uneasy with how he looked at her.

“We will take him with us.” Jin whispered to himself loud enough to hear.

Ava wet her drying lips, swallowing down the spit in her mouth. Her eyes closed, she needed to recentre herself. Once they came back open, Jin was no longer in front of her.

Chapter Text

Lilith’s heels found the dirt path disagreeable. Her ankles were constantly one bad step from twisting, rendering her deadweight on the others. She was already trailing behind them by a sizable distance. The group had been walking for what felt like at least two hours; in their infinite luck, which Tadashi claimed to be the cause of, they had found a dirt path that led somewhere deeper. Lilith’s concerns about a trap were shot down by the others, more accurately, Victoria demanded for a place to rest as soon as possible; Ava had always been prone to agreeing with Victoria; Tadashi was prone to disagreeing just to oppose her; Jin remained silent through the entirety of their hiking. Jin was dragging Marcel behind them, who had not launched a single complaint. Their newfound prisoner was unusually agreeable, silent, but not resistant. 

“Up here!” Victoria called to them.

Lilith increased the speed of her careful skipping, avoiding the stray rocks in her way. By the time she reached the rest of them again, they were already up the porch steps belonging to a small cabin. From appearance alone, it was abandoned. There was greenery building up the wall, the firepit outside was unused, the lights were burnt out, and not a single noise came from around them—the forest was dead silent here.

“Hey, Lily! We need someone to keep watch of Burning Boy! You up for it!?” Tadashi was calling back to her, already almost in the cabin with the rest. 

Marcel was standing outside, wrists handcuffed behind a tree, awaiting her arrival patiently. She stared at him, her disappointment palpable. Lilith was no expert in the field of assholery, but she was pretty sure they didn’t leave her a choice.  

“I’m not tired, I suppose I can keep watch of him. It wouldn’t be a difficult feat. All I would need to do is sit around and keep an eye on him. If you guys need that, then that’s fine, I only wonder who will watch after me.” She stood in silence, waiting for a response.

She looked at the cabin door. 

He was inside all along.

“Right, that’s fine.” Lilith smiled to herself. 

She made her way to the steps of the porch, sitting down on the topmost one. She slipped a finger into each heel and took them off, setting them down one step under her. Her feet hurt, she felt a blister forming on her pinkie toe, they were generally sore; she had no choice but to reluctantly set them down on the filthy wood steps, too exhausted to be fussy. 

“Do you mind loosening these? They pinch my skin.” Marcel hadn’t waited longer than three seconds to make a request. 

“No. I am not loosening them. Deal with it.” Lilith neglected to look up at him. 

There were no words exchanged after that. That silence lingered around them until it was intolerable. 

“No offense, but your friends are horrible. You are the most tolerable of that group despite everything. I am shocked that you aren’t fighting us.” Lilith broke it first, her nail trailing the crevices in the wood. 

“Why would I fight? Do I want to cause a forest fire? What do I gain? Assuming you won’t kill me, I get to enjoy the journey. Learn new things, no? I allow myself to just follow the crowd, same as you.” Every sentence was delayed behind a barrier of translation. His accent was thick, but he was understandable. 

“I am following the crowd, aren’t I? I’m just hoping that Jin has a plan. He’s not saying anything… what if he doesn’t have a plan?” 

“He has a plan. Do you really doubt him? Do you not see his eyes? You have not been around enough maléfiques to see, but certainly, there is a plan.” 

Lilith only raised a brow, thinking about it. “I don’t know. You don’t know him though. Jin is different from your usual person, he’s not driven by his own needs, he’s driven by others' needs. He’s unselfish.”

Marcel clicked his tongue in response. There was a look of pity on his face, directed right at Lilith. “I know him. I greet him everyday in the skin of Ezra. Ces deux-là sont des cancers issus de la même souche.”

Lilith leaned forward where she sat, hunching forward. Her attention couldn’t be pulled off Marcel now. Lilith was open-minded, she always took everything she heard into consideration. There was no way she could actually take this into consideration. Jack and Jin even close to similar? It was a ridiculous idea. All she caught from his French was cancers. 

“If you think so low of your boss, then why do you work for him?” There was genuine curiosity behind her defensiveness. 

“I do not think low of Ezra. I believe he is the most generous man I have worked for. Evil is not all bad; evil is stronger than good; where you find real progress, you find evil with the good.”

“Evil? Evil and generous don’t go together, neither does evil and good. I know evil, I study it, I face it everyday and I make it work under me. But, it will never be the reason why the world is healed. Healing the world is well-intentioned. Jin has good intentions.” 

“But he is evil. Well-intentioned evil is still what it is.”

“Then it is a difference of opinions,” she huffed, crossing her arms. Her curiosity had turned into frustration. “You didn’t answer my question. Why do you work for him?”

“That is a simple one. I fled from France to America, I ended up in the state, Louisiana. Well to be specific, I found myself in New Orlean, so it felt familiar, the closest to home I could find. I was… comme un clodo.” Marcel smiled faintly, amusing himself. “Madam Romanos found me. She took a liking to me. I went along with her because I was a chiot nécessiteux. I gave them my loyalty, I do not intend to turn my back regardless of my emotions.” 

Lilith was listening the closest she had of all their conversation. “You said you fled? Fled from what?” 

“La Première Opportunité.” He paused before translating himself. “The First Chance Mob?”

Lilith’s curious stare shifted with a narrowing of her eyes. That was a name she hadn’t been expecting. The First Chance Mob hadn’t been prevalent in two years, not since being moved in on by The Red Knife Collective. Lilith never had the displeasure of running into either of the two syndicates, but from what she caught on the news, their clashing grew worse every day. If left unchecked, she was confident it would break out into a full scale turf war. 

“I wasn’t aware the mob was in France. You think I would’ve heard about this.” She left an obvious silence for him to elaborate. She was invested now, this was better than sitting in silence.

“Well, when they made the move here, they decided to change their name. It’s not exactly the same name, just similar. They are under a new leader now as well.” He waited for a response until he seemed to realize she wanted more. “There isn’t much of a story to tell. I do not mean to disappoint. My father was part of Première Opportunité but he wasn’t intelligent. He had debt with them, and against his efforts, we needed to work within le milieu to aid him. It was a horrible life. I was a talkative boy and they did not like this. They would use me to put out their cigarettes among other things you could think of. After my father died, I had no reason to stay.” 

“You said we. Did you have a sibling?” 

“Ah…” Marcel’s voice dragged. For the first time, he was showing some hesitance. “Pascal was his name. We were born the same day. We were the same person in every aspect except the one that mattered. He was reserved and frail where I was loud and rebellious. He passed a bit after my father, it verified my leaving.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Marcel. I have a sister, even though we don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things, I wouldn’t want to lose her.” Lilith took a moment to process what he had told her.

“Your sister, what is her name? Why do you two not see eye to eye?”

Lilith hung her head, looking down at her feet. The soreness went away at some point, she wasn’t sure how long they had been out here. Things felt slow for her. 

“Abigail Desdemona. That’s her name. She’s more like our mom than I am, that’s what makes us not see eye to eye. Our mother had a strict set of guidelines for us to follow without question; if you didn’t dot your i’s and cross your t’s, then you were breaking the law. She works for the city police department now, though I don’t know what position. We stopped talking frequently when I started hanging around Jin and the others, completely when I joined Jin and the others in fighting for ‘a better society’. We live in the same city and we haven’t interacted in five years.” She spoke in a melting pot of regret, stubbornness, and frustration. 

“Then why don’t you go and speak to her, Lilith? Something good would come of it.” 

“I don’t know. I guess I’m just following the crowd.” 

“And, what exact crowd do you belong to?” 

The response that was set to shoot out her mouth jammed on the tip of her tongue. The only thing that came out was a resigned ‘hm’ 

Marcel held his silence in face of her non-response. His eyes didn’t leave her, what had once been pity now more closely resembled understanding. Lilith still couldn’t bring herself to answer, nothing came to mind. 

“While you consider, do you mind loosening these?” Marcel shook his hands behind him.

It was only then that Lilith remembered who he was and that he was handcuffed to the tree. She couldn’t help but chuckle pitifully, not with herself but at herself. She stood up and nodded at him “Just give me a second, then.” 

Lilith stood on her bare feet, ignoring the sharp pricks of splinter wood. She reached the door and brought it open, seeing the inside of the abandoned cabin for the first time. 

She didn’t quite get what she was looking at. Based on the outside of the cabin, she had made the fair assumption that the inside would be decrepit; the inside of the cabin was simple but clean. There wasn’t even the smallest clump of dust in sight. The smell inside was pleasant, oddly similar to a memory she couldn’t remember. 

Lilith took a glance at the group inside. She first noticed Victoria passed out on a bed composed of roughly etched wood and deer hides. Then her gaze shifted to Ava who was slumped too, seated at the dinner table, her head limp on it. She had let her hair down, the thick wave of navy blue flooding three-fourths of the surface. It was just bigger than the puddle of drool forming from her parted lips. She finally looked at Jin who sat at the table and Tadashi who was crossed legged on the floor in front of him, they were wide awake and chatting away. The last thing to catch her eye was the half empty bottle of whiskey in Tadashi’s hand. 

“Ok. Firstly, are you guys drinking right now?” Lilith sidetracked the handcuffs, prioritizing the lecturing. 

“Noooo.” Tadashi shook his head, his smile giving away the piss poor attempt at lying. 

“We’re men, Lilith. We can handle a little bit of whiskey in the woods, you wouldn’t get it. Either way, it’s primarily Tadashi doing the drinking, I’m sober.” Jin sucked his teeth at her. 

“Gah.” She was lost for words. “Guys…” Her eyes drifted between the two of them, looking for a hint of self awareness, and finding none. “Our chance of getting out of this is little to none, but whatever, I need the key for the handcuffs.” 

Jin reached to his belt and tossed the keys into Lilith’s outstretched hand, giving her a nod. “Just make sure you don’t lose him.” 

Tadashi perked up. “Oh, oh, I’ll take over your shift in a bit! Just come and get me when you’re tired!” He was eager to showcase his chivalry when she was already on her way out.

Tadashi watched the door shut before turning his head to look back at Jin. “You were saying something about oil paintings or whatever.” Leaning towards Jin, he took an idle swig from the bottle.

“Forget about it, you aren’t interested in painting.” Jin hung his head, dismissing Tadashi.

“I mean yeah, obviously I’m not, but I don’t mind hearing about them.” He pressed, knowing he wouldn’t get Jin to change his mind. “Whatever, that doesn’t matter. There’s something that’s been on my mind.” 

That successfully got Jin’s attention. He shifted his gaze up, looking at Tadashi through the short strands of hair. “Hm?” 

“Back in the club, the fight wasn’t real, right? That was just part of your plan to get us out, it was pretty smart, y’know?” He was in high spirits, partially thanks to the liquor.

“I wanted you guys to hurt me bad enough to get to the medical section. It was going to be easier to sneak out of there, I figured that out after fighting the teen.” He shrugged. 

“Consider me fooled, Jushi.” Tadashi chuckled, taking another quick swig from the bottle. “I thought you were actually trying to kill me. You had me thinking you really hated me, man.”

Jin didn’t answer him this time. At closer inspection, he noticed that Jin was no longer looking at him. He waited for Jin to say anything, but all he got was a heavy silence. He could interpret what that meant, but he didn’t want to. 

“Jin?” 

“I don’t like you. I want you to be healthy, and smiling, and enjoying life, but never think that I don’t hate you.” His breathing had grown heavier, frustrated. “I hate you, Tadashi.” Jin’s heavy breaths formed the words. 

Tadashi sat and listened to Jin’s breaths. There was nothing that came to mind; it gave Jin the space to further tear into whatever spirits Tadashi had.

“I have spent the last seventy-four days seething since you found me. I knew you didn’t change when you came after me. But maybe there was hope for you. Maybe, maybe, fucking maybe, if I spent enough time with you, you would care to see what was boiling inside me. I wanted you to see how much it meant to me for you to just… be normal. I hate how I feel when I look at you. I hate when you come near me. I hate the way you look at me. I thought if you died, I would be able to move on from it. Shit, your death might be fuel for me to do anything. I’ve known—always known the reality. Every time I smell you, every time I feel you, every time I hear your stupid, evil voice, I want… not this thing you keep choosing to be. I think I might be willing to give up anyone to have us back.” Jin’s words were a mess of breathing through gritted teeth. “Why can’t you be like me? We’re so close to being alright. We’re right there and you’re breaking me.” He aggressively swiped his hand through his hair, pulling it out of his face. “Every part of me hurts. I feel the cold pinching under my skin constantly. It hurts to move around because I need every trick under my sleeve to try and keep up with you. I begged you to fight me in the auditorium and you couldn’t do that for me. You do nothing for me. I almost killed you and you still couldn’t see me. You don’t deserve to be strong. You’re the weakest person I know and God made you the strongest man I’ve met. God… there is no God. There couldn’t be a God in the same universe where you exist. You’re a godless human—so wretched, and vile, and selfish, and disgusting. I would rip your throat out if you gave me a chance. I would put you out of your misery. You put sick animals down. I want to relieve you.”

By the end of the tirade, Jin had nothing left to say; every single bottled emotion was tossed in his face. There was only one thing that came to Tadashi now.

“I’ll never be who you want me to be. But I’m here despite it. No matter what you think about me, I won’t live without you. There isn’t a universe where you aren’t who I want by my side. As long as I’m alive, that’s how it is, so rip my throat out because it’s till death do us part.” Tadashi tilted his head back, getting onto his knees and exposing his neck for Jin.

Jin’s weight shifted the floorboards, Tadashi could feel it. 

“Get off your knees.” Jin’s voice was bordering with something which cracked it. 

“No, you need to do this. Take me. I’m ready.” Tadashi whispered to him. 

“No, get off your knees, actually.” Jin’s voice cracked more. 

“Take me here and now, Jin. Do it.” Tadashi’s voice brimmed with resolve.

“Tadashi I’m too tipsy for you to be on your knees with your eyes closed.” It became evident he was trying not to laugh. “Why are you in cumshot position?” 

Tadashi’s eyes came open, looking at Jin who fought to not crack up. He couldn’t help but laugh as well. “Fuck off! I was being serious, Jin!” He reached up, grabbing his wrist and ripping him down. 

Both men fell backwards, landing side by side on the stiff wooden boards. Tadashi gripped onto Jin’s wrist despite his efforts to take it back. They wrestled on the ground momentarily before it died down. The two of them were left catching their breath, laughing quietly. They were inches apart on the floor. 

“Why were you even thinking about cumshotting me?” Tadashi closed his eyes, smiling widely. 

“If I see a pretty dude on his knees, it’s instinctual.” Even when joking, he sounded serious.

“Fuck off.” Tadashi’s smile couldn’t last that long. Things were unsettled. “I was being serious. I won’t live like this, Jin. Why don’t you take this more serious?” 

“I don’t want this to be serious. I just want to play fight and talk about stupid shit with you.” Jin’s eyes were warm now, not burning. 

Tadashi rolled onto his back, thinking about the words, they weren’t ones he wanted to respond to; if he had the choice, he would prefer to only think. Jin got the gist, rolling onto his back the same. Tadashi was never fond of reflection, what he saw in the mirror never looked right; if he tried, maybe he could find an image that was alright for him. 

The creaking front door made him open his eyes, shifting to look at it.

“Can you take over, Tadashi? I need to rest.” Lilith had heels in hand, she walked past him and Jin, sitting on the chair opposing Ava.

There was a grumble from him that meant little in this situation. Seeing as it gave him the chance to breathe, he went outside to the porch. Marcel was exactly where Jin left him, though he was sitting, looking significantly more comfortable. It was no surprise that Lilith had been won over enough to loosen the handcuffs. Tadashi and Marcel were familiar with each other so he didn’t necessarily feel the urge to taunt nor speak to him like he would the usual prisoner. 

The peace and tranquility that had built around Tadashi was demolished with a creaking that was unusually loud. He could tell it was Victoria before he turned to face her. Her scent was something unique, it wasn’t easy to forget; it was the smell of morning snow. 

She joined him on the railing, mirroring how he leaned on it. Tadashi had absolutely no clue how to talk to her like this; Victoria was seldom upset around him, and when she was it was the sad type, never mad. His inability to communicate with her cemented Victoria as one of his dearest friends in his mind, but he doubted she saw it the same way. In light of this fact, he drew the most comforting smile manageable, looking down at her.

“How are you holding up? Feeling any better?” 

“I’m fine.” Her shivering was noticeable in voice and body. 

Doing the chivalrous thing, Tadashi wrapped his arm around Victoria’s shoulders and pulled her against his side, holding her.  

Victoria’s immediate response was to turn towards him, shoving him as hard as she could. “Back off, asshole! Don’t touch me!” 

“What’s your problem with me, Vicky? Jin I get, but what the fuck did I do to you? We’re good friends.” Tadashi’s confusion was genuine. He pushed her back albeit gentler. 

She scoffed at him, turning her head away. “You wouldn’t know, huh? Because no one matters to you. You’re selfish, Tadashi.” 

“Yeah, I’m well aware of that by now. Maybe one more person should say it, then the point really gets hammered into me.” 

Her frustration built into unwilling laughter. “You really don’t get it, do you? You’re no better than the ‘bad’ people you chastise, that type of people Jin plans to go after. What makes you any different from them?” she raised her hand, pushing her middle finger in his face. 

Tadashi snatched her wrist out of the air, pulling her chest to chest with him. “Last time I checked, you were right beside me through it all, have you forgotten that? You enjoyed what I offered, every bit of what I offered. I want you to remember how many times you were the one in control; I haven’t made you hurt one person you didn’t choose to.” Their faces were a brush away.  

“But you have.” Victoria took her wrist back, Tadashi’s grip on it wasn’t strong. “You made me join Fate Providence then left me. I’m here because of your choice to mess with Orlin.” She placed her hands on Tadashi’s chest, digging her nails under his skin.

“No, this is exactly why you’re here. You’ll find anyone but yourself to blame. You can’t live your own life if you’re so caught up basing it off oth—” He was interrupted by a sharp slap to the face. 

Victoria slapped him again, then shoved him. She was hitting him repeatedly in whichever way her body told her to. She kept going even after he had nowhere else to be pushed, his back against the cabin wall. It angered her that he refused to fight, standing there and taking it. Her onslaught continued until all the energy in her muscles were gone. Their predicament had stripped her of her resolve; all that was left was a festering negativity in her. Her fingers pressed into his collar, her head rested on his chest, she was only catching her breath. 

“I looked up to you. I wanted to be like you when we first met. You were the coolest, Jin too. After the Mass, you and Jin knew exactly what you were doing and I wanted to be just like you. You’re the reason I joined Jin’s mission, you’re the reason I joined Fate Providence, I feel like if I’m not with you and Ava, I’m not living… but I don’t have a choice anymore. You took that choice away from me; I’m not allowed to desert Fate Providence without repercussions; I’m not dragging Ava into this bullshit, I couldn’t be the cause of her misery; I want her to think of me fondly. I really hate you, Tadashi.” Her fingers were no longer pressing into him.

“All I can say is stop waiting for things to get better. They won’t get better; if you wait to talk to her until it is, you’ll never get the chance. Do what you need to do before you lose the chance.”

“I didn’t ask for your advice. But you’re right.” She laughed, no frustration in it. 

  Victoria pushed herself off Tadashi, eyes scanning him until she reached his. She always figured she’d have more to say to him; she had a million ways she wanted to get back at him; the only thing she wanted to do now was muster up a faint smile to him before she left into the cabin.

By the time Victoria reentered, Ava was in the process of waking up. Victoria didn’t care for what Jin and Lilith were discussing whilst taking up space at the table, so she didn’t bother tuning in. She pressed her hands on either side of the doorframe, leaning in to get Ava’s attention. 

“Pssssssssssssssssssssst.” It took longer than it should have to get her attention. 

Ava didn’t question what Victoria wanted, getting up and making her way over quickly. She had a look of relief on her face that Victoria hadn’t seen in a long time; she realized what caused it was the smile that had never been wiped away, which now quickly was.

“What’s up? Do you need something?” Ava was drying the waking tears which accumulated. 

“Yeah, I want to talk to you. I don’t want to wait any longer.” 

Ava dried quicker so she could look at Victoria’s face; it wasn’t hard for Victoria to see she was trying to read her. She was never a big fan of that, it made her feel uneasy.

“Of course, Vicky. Like here orrrrr..?” Ava glanced back at the two who were still yammering.

Victoria shook her head in response, pushing out of the doorway with the two hands she had planted. She passed by Tadashi, who minded his business on the porch. She was surprised he could manage that. She buried the negative thoughts that came with the sight of his disgustingly handsome face; she knew she had all the time in the world to think about him after speaking to Ava.

<><>

A pair of steps followed behind her, letting her know Ava was still following despite the fact that Victoria hadn’t stopped walking for a few minutes. Nowhere seemed good enough to stop and talk to Ava; she had to find somewhere prettier, somewhere more meaningful before they could actually talk; Victoria really did want to talk to her, it was just the location of their talk mattered a lot.  

“Vicky, I can’t even see the cabin anymore.” Both steps had gone quiet. 

“No, I know there has to be somewhere nicer around her.” She stopped in her tracks to look. 

Regardless of how many revolutions she swiveled around in, it wasn’t going to change that she didn’t feel right about where they stopped. There was nothing pretty about the darkening forest except the setting sun which struggled to peek through the densely packed trees. 

“What did you want to talk about? This is a perfectly nice place to talk about it.” She got impatient.

“No, seriously, there’s gotta be somewhere—”

“Vicky.” 

She bit down on her lip hard, squeezing her eyes shut. Why was this the hardest thing she had done today? Was there a way to get into the back of the truck again? She opened her eyes.  

“There’s nothing I want to talk about. I mean, obviously there is so much to talk about, but I don’t wanna talk about it. Tadashi said something inspirational and it got me to finally try to talk to you. I tried, clearly this isn’t something I can do unless we go somewhere prettier.” Victoria got it out in lumps. 

“Shit, maybe try not getting inspired by Tadashi. That was probably your first mistake,” Ava’s amusement came through more than anything. “Your second one is thinking you can’t just talk to me. We’re pretty darn close, Vicky. If you have something to say to me, I want to hear it, obviously.” 

Victoria giggled, wiping her nose with her sleeve. With it getting later, the cold air had turned freezing, it was fanning across her nape like breathing. It made her fingers cramp and snot build in her nostrils.

“We should have sat around the burning guy and used him as a campfire—poke him with a stick every time we needed some warmth.” Victoria laughed, wiping her nose clean. 

Ava found the idea just as funny, joining in on the brief laughter before the two let the silence sink in again—the silence—it shouldn’t be that silent.

“I haven’t seen a single animal since we got here. There’s no birds, or crickets, or anything at all.”

“Oh yeah, I did notice that too. That’s really weird, isn’t it?” Ava looked around. It was only the trees.  

“I don’t think that’s normal, at all. This forest is meant to be lively… deers and stuff.” 

“Doesn’t that mean there’s a predator in the area?”

There was something wrong that she hadn’t noticed before. She kept running it through her head. Everything was normal at the cabin. It had to have happened on the way here. It wasn’t a pair of footsteps.

It was a pair of steps. 

Victoria shifted her g

Chapter Text

This room belonged to a woman no older than thirty. The walls of this room were white, it could not belong to a person who valued expression. It belonged to someone who didn't grasp expression. The ‘bed’ which was a single mattress stained with semen, liquor, and blood sat in the corner of the room, right beside a window—the window shouldn’t be acknowledged. It’s a nice hue of warm orange that comes through the ______, it’s the colour of her hair. At the second attempt to look through the ______, the sky is void—a literal void, where the stars left without a goodbye; the moon didn’t say goodbye either. This room only allows for the lamppost which gives the colour of her hair to be seen through the ______. Continuing to stare at the ______ will lead to death. There’s a melancholic melody that is meant to mellow, it is a quiet one, but reassuring; that song would be the only reassuring thing in this room, which belonged to a woman no older than twenty-five.

Ava stood at the opposing end of the room to the                . She took a moment to absorb her surroundings. She now had an inherent understanding of the pocket she occupied alongside Victoria. The only response her brain came up with was to remain silent. Upon listening close enough, she heard only the melody. 

“We’re in someone’s Will?” Victoria posed the question, but they were already aware. 

Ava inhaled deeply, sending her fist into the wall in front of her. It was like punching a concept, she knew she did it but there was no consequence to her action. With nothing to vent her frustration out on, she turned to the door leading out of the room. She left the room, not caring if Victoria followed after her now. 

The rest of this apartment followed the same pattern as the inside of this room, it belonged to a woman who was no older than twenty-three. The walls were still white. The more apartment they discovered, the less it fit. This apartment which belonged to a woman no older than twenty-two had furniture; this apartment had trinkets and small personalizations which meant that she grasped expression. This apartment did not belong to a woman whose exact age was twenty-one.

“Bullshit, this is a Will? There’s fucking nothing.” Ava already explored the entirety of the extremely small apartment.

“There’s some Wills like that—we might be trapped in here until they have to drop it.” 

Ava turned to face Victoria, who was repeatedly bringing her palm out in front of her. 

“What are you doing?” She walked past Victoria, back to the room they came from. 

“Checking if my Manifest works here… which, clearly it doesn’t.” She whispered, following.

Ava’s hand outstretched, wrapping around the knob. There was no reason for her to hesitate yet she hesitated to open the door. Opening the door to this room would unlock something that needed to be behind it. There was never a choice in it. A chance at freedom was worth whatever she had to endure.

A disheveled, sweaty man stood in the centre of the room. His hair was stuck to his face, it would have been covering the entirety of it if he wasn’t thrashing from side to side violently. Standing across from him, her hand grasping the barrel of a revolver, was a young woman whose hair was the colour of the lamppost light. They struggled for a revolver held between them. The woman was too weak for this struggle, the barrel of the gun ending up at the side of her head. The right side of her face blew off, her eye bursting out of its socket. Flaps of her skin, chunks of flesh, strands of hair, and her blood stuck to the walls and furniture, adding expression; the pieces of her brain slid down the wall. The woman did not immediately collapse, she reached for the missing part of her head, a wet squelching came from where she dug. She stumbled towards her killer, her jaw twitching to speak, but she only sputtered. When she collapsed, all that was left was the blood squirting from her head. 

The initial gunshot caused Ava to jump, her body locking into place. She tried to move away but she couldn’t. The only emotion coursing through her was horror. The burning in her throat was becoming impossible to choke back.

Victoria brought her hand to Ava’s, trying to pull her away but her knees gave out from under her. She couldn’t bring herself to look away from the woman’s jaw which had stopped twitching, she wanted it to twitch desperately. 

The man stood there, unphased by the event. His eyes were akin to those of a dead animal, the light did not reach them but they shined mindlessly. The smell of his sweat was exactly like rotting fish, only overtaken by the smell of death which left the corpse at his feet. He brought the revolver back to where it had been. A pale hand formed on the barrel of the gun, from that hand came the rest of the woman like a ghost; she wasn’t a ghost though. They struggled for a revolver held between them. The woman was too weak for this struggle, the barrel of the gun ending up at the side of her head. The right side of her face blew off, her eye bursting out of its socket. Flaps of her skin, chunks of flesh, strands of hair, and her blood stuck to the walls and furniture, adding expression; the pieces of her brain slid down the wall. The woman did not immediately collapse, she reached for the missing part of her head, a wet squelching came from where she dug. She stumbled towards her killer, her jaw twitching to speak, but she only sputtered. When she collapsed on top of the other corpse, all that was left was the blood squirting from her head.

Ava didn't understand what she was looking at. She tried to push herself up towards the man but she stopped—she didn’t want to stop herself, her body couldn’t bring itself to cross a line that was set in her mind. Victoria’s hand still clutched hers tightly, she only now remembered that Victoria was in this Will with her; Victoria was on her knees, she refused to let go of Ava, all she was good for now was witnessing this.

The man stood there, unphased by the events. His eyes were akin to those of a dead animal, the light did not reach them but they shined mindlessly. The smell of his sweat was exactly like rotting fish, only overtaken by the smell of death which left the two corpses at his feet. He brought the revolver back to where it had been. A pale hand formed on the barrel of the gun, from that hand came the rest of the woman like a ghost; she wasn’t a ghost. They struggled for the revolver held between them. The woman was too weak for this struggle, the barrel of the gun ending up at the side of her head. The right side of her face blew off, her eye bursting out of its socket. Flaps of her skin, chunks of flesh, strands of hair, and her blood stuck to the walls and furniture, adding expression; the pieces of her brain slid down the wall. The woman did not immediately collapse, she reached for the missing part of her head, a wet squelching came from where she dug. She stumbled towards her killer, her jaw twitching to speak, but she only sputtered. When she collapsed on the two corpses, all that was left was the blood squirting from her head. 

“OK, WE GET IT! THAT’S ENOUGH!” Ava managed to get the words out, they were intended to be said minutes ago. 

Her eyes shot down to the face of the corpses. Their eyes were sad. Their faces had been full of life, the half that remained at least. Blood trickled from the hole, down their freckled faces, and to the floor beneath them. The smell was worsening with every second that passed—it was a mix of rotting fish, death, and gunpowder—a mix which had already gotten Ava to vomit more bile. Her lips and chin were covered in vomit, it had soaked into her crop top and skirt. 

The man stood there, unphased by the events. His eyes were akin to those of a dead animal, the light did not reach them but they shined mindlessly. The smell of his sweat was exactly like rotting fish, only overtaken by the smell of death which left the three corpses at his feet. He brought the revolver back to where it had been. A pale hand formed on the barrel of the gun, from that hand came the rest of Tadashi; they struggled for the revolver held between them. Tadashi was too weak for this struggle, the barrel of the gun ending up at the side of his head. The right side of his face blew off, his eye bursting out of its socket. Flaps of his skin, chunks of flesh, strands of hair, and his blood stuck to the walls and furniture, adding expression; the pieces of his brain slid down the wall. Tadashi did not immediately collapse, he reached for the missing part of his head, a wet squelching came from where he dug. He stumbled towards his killer, his jaw twitching to speak, but he only sputtered. When he collapsed on the three corpses, all that was left was the blood squirting from his head.

“TADA—” Ava couldn’t finish speaking before it happened.

The man stood there, unphased by the events. His eyes were akin to those of a dead animal, the light did not reach them but they shined mindlessly. The smell of his sweat was exactly like rotting fish, only overtaken by the smell of death which left the four corpses at his feet. He brought the revolver back to where it had been. A fair-skinned hand formed on the barrel of the gun, from that hand came the rest of the Lyric; they struggled for the revolver held between them. Lyric was too weak for this struggle, the barrel of the gun ending up at the side of his head. The right side of his face blew off, his eye bursting out of its socket. Flaps of his skin, chunks of flesh, strands of hair, and his blood stuck to the walls and furniture, adding expression; the pieces of his brain slid down the wall. Lyric did not immediately collapse, he reached for the missing part of his head, a wet squelching came from where he dug. He stumbled towards his killer, his jaw twitching to speak, but he only sputtered. When he collapsed on the four corpses, all that was left was the blood squirting from his head.

Ava’s body was shaking uncontrollably on her knees, but that was the only movement it could perform. She couldn’t look away, no matter how badly she had to. There were tears forcing themselves from her quivering eyes; she was retching but no bile would come up now.

She didn’t look away when he killed Jin in front of them, then he killed Osuke, 

Then Lilith, 

Then Selene,

Then Thomas,

Then Hayami, 

Cerys, 

Vespasia, 

Tristan, Ayden, Everest, Kelly, Zane, Otoya, Oruha, Jin’s father, Ava’s grandmother, there was no order to the victims, just the guarantee that they would die. 

Time passed in this room: She could see it in the blood drying on the floor, the coat of blood which he wore thicker with every slaughter, the smell which became unbearable, the vomit which dried into her clothes, the tears that still dripped onto her cold skin. She felt every minute that passed. She heard every gunshot; Ava heard each body drop, she listened to their dying whimpers, she saw their skin lose colour, she watched it all for twenty-four hours. 

She endured it for forty-eight hours. 

She bore it for seventy-two hours. 

She was broken by the                     hour. 

There was no hope of escape. There was hope when all of her friends had been executed; there was a chance when he murdered people she somewhat remembered; the reality set in when he began to slaughter people she had met once in her life. This room was not an option when the corpses piled up, spilling into the hallway. They had tried to leave repeatedly but always came back. They could move anywhere in the apartment, but the gunshot still rang out and another body was added to the mound. 

She remembered how by the fifty-first hour, the crying started. The voices mixed together so well she couldn’t differentiate between them. This depravity was curated specifically for them. 

Victoria had started counting the gunshots to pull at any sanity possible, but by the two thousand seven hundred forty-nineth shot, it became a lesser torture to cling onto, a device she needed to survive this.

This room no longer belonged to a woman who had died                        hours ago. The walls of this room were red, it belonged to a man whose only expression was death. The ‘bed’ which was a pile of rotting humans packed together filled the entire room, right underneath the window—the window which was their only choice. It’s a tempting hue of Persephone’s hair that comes through the window, it’s the colour of his split-heart lover. When Ava and Victoria reenter the room, the window calls to them. The sky is void, but the stars want to say hello; the moon is waiting for them to follow. This room beckons them to look out the window. They know that if they jump out, they will go home. The melody can no longer be heard underneath the crying, a choir there only to torment. This room belonged to death in man’s body. 

Ava crawled through the mound. Their blood, their viscera, their eyes which stared with grief, they would not matter if she returned home. The sight of nothing outside the window was a relief in a haze of agony; the apartment complex this room belonged to never touched the ground, it only disappeared into a limitless void. All they had to do was crawl out of the window.

Ava did not think to see if Victoria was following her. Of course, she didn’t care if Victoria followed her in this apartment. She was justified in only thinking about herself—she knew everyone else would do the same in her shoes. She looked back; Victoria was standing where the victims belonged; she did not struggle when death in man’s body pressed his barrel to the side of her head. 

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?” The mound she once crawled through without hesitation was insurmountable now. No matter how much she crawled, the bodies were too heavy for her withering muscles. 

“I don’t want to remember this. This is my chance to join them.” Victoria’s lips were dried. 

There was no possibility where Ava crawled fast enough to reach her before the gun went off. She knew this but she tried anyway. She didn’t notice the cracks that grew in the air around them, they didn’t matter to her; she outstretched her hand and reached for Victoria. She wanted nothing more than to save her; if she could do one last thing, she wanted to save Victoria from herself.