Hello, all!

Terribly sorry for the late update today, I completely forgot until just now. Please have patience with these humble, mortal writers *clasps hands*. I think I speak for all of us when I say that things are pretty hectic right now. But then again, when are they not, eh? Anywhoser, thank you so much for all the incredible feedback lately! We're so glad you're enjoying the story thus far. It only gets crazier from here on out, though, so hold onto your butts...

Also, tomorrow is Easter Sunday, so Happy Easter! Gorge yourselves on chocolates and wine, lovelies.


rated: M for mature content

summary: In a world of underground fighting only the strong survive, abiding by the rules of kill or be killed. In the Ring, a feeble emotion like hope is all it takes to destroy you. And yet it exists - and those who hold onto it play a dangerous game. But once you enter the Ring, it will never let you go.


CHAPTER EIGHT

Technical Decision

when a bout is terminated prematurely due to a cut or some other circumstance sending the bout to the scorecards


Natsu was entirely drained.

He didn't think he could take another step without collapsing, yet his body kept surprising him as he was pushed through the quarters, past the gym and the stairs that led to the cellar cages, until they came to a halt in front of his room. His proper one this time, not the makeshift dump he had spent the last week in.

Not like this one was much better - but it was equipped with certain luxuries. All courtesy of big brother Zeref, of course.

This tournament had taken his all in more ways than one. His body was spent, muscles aching and eyelids heavy. There was not a single ounce of energy left in him.

An entire month of sleep sounded about right to him right now.

"Three hours," one of his escorts grunted as he shoved him into the room. "Then it's breakfast time. Sleep tight, princess."

With that, and a laugh, he slammed the door shut.

Natsu staggered the last steps to his bed, silently cursing the asshole who just loved to egg him on. He was not the only one; more than one person in here was fed up with the great Salamander and his special treatment.

It wasn't like he had asked for it.

The mattress shifted as he dropped down onto it, and then wobbled a second time as Happy jumped up and curled himself into a ball on his back. Consciousness slipped from him faster than a piece of soap from sweaty fingers, and he fell into a light, unpleasant sleep full of dreams of locked away princesses and dragons just waiting to swallow him up.

And like he fell asleep, he awoke.

Grumpy, tired, and pissed off at the world.

At least today he'd have another training session with Wendy. Those always cheered him up, and he couldn't wait to show her what Lucy had given him to smuggle back here on the last night she visited him: a deck of cards.

The thought of his new friend (he guessed that was what she was, right?) cheered him up without him noticing. They'd spent another evening together, filled with nothing but small talk and banter and games, and he had never felt so at ease with any of his clients before.

Of course, he was only setting himself up for disappointment.

He tried to stop thinking of her, to not invest any feelings in whatever it was they had, but it proved a lot harder than he thought. This was the first time something like this had happened to him, and he wasn't sure how to handle it, or what to expect. Strictly speaking, he knew it was silly of him to expect anything at all. But a stubborn part of him refused to accept this.

Someone came along and showed him sympathy, treated him like a person for once, and already he was grappling for her approval like a lapdog. Maybe it'd serve him right if it came back to bite him in the end, so he'd never make the same mistake again.

There had been another person inside the ring who had shown him kindness before, who had made him think he had a friend - a brother - and look where he was now. Four solid walls instead of the freedom he craved.

But he couldn't help it. Something about Lucy had captivated him.

He'd let her be his friend for as long as she wanted to be; that alone was helping him more than she might know. Her, and Wendy. He gobbled up his breakfast greedily, impatient to finally meet up with his small friend.

He felt a little uneasy about the fact she'd had to spend a whole week without him.

And his unease was justified.

In the gym, the atmosphere felt different. Heavier, more solemn, as though weighed down by something dark and gritty. It didn't help that the other fighters did one of two things - either they refused to meet his eyes, or they flashed shark-like and taunting grins that made Natsu's skin prickle.

Something had happened.

Suspicion and anxiety were like rocks in his full stomach as he taped up his hands, casting glances around himself. And when the double doors were kicked open, he whirled around, hoping that he'd be proven wrong.

What he saw, however, made his whole body tense. His mind went blank.

No…

A child was pushed into the gym by the nightmare of the gym itself. Rarely seen, but his presence was felt even more so than Zeref's; he was the Enforcer.

He did the work no one, not even scum like Zancrow, could stomach. He kept the enemies of the Ring silent, a spector who was felt rather than seen.

Acnologia.

He guided the child past the gym doors with a single hand on her shoulder, lips curling downwards condescendingly when she gasped in pain. And the longer Natsu stared, the sharper his disbelief became as he realized with stark horror that he was looking at Wendy. Or rather, what was left of the sweet little girl.

Her long, dark hair was gone.

Instead of those twin pigtails that she'd worn with pride, she now had a cap of ruffled, shaggy hair. It was choppy and uneven, almost like a blind butcher had been set loose on her hair. The longest strands came down to her chin...and her red ribbons were long gone.

But that wasn't the worst of the damage.

No… Neither was the swelling of her cheek, the dried blood on her lips, or the bruises on her arms and underneath her eyes that suggested her nose had been broken at some point. Her sweet, round face was mottled with yellow and blue and her lips were cracked and chapped, blood lining her gums.

Her eyes were the worst.

Hollow, vacant, devoid of hope and resigned to her fate.

Only when her eyes met his across the room did a sliver of emotion return - and it made something in Natsu break. Tears welled up in her eyes as recognition set in, and she took a limping step towards him.

When she whimpered, Natsu saw red.

Rage burned like acid in his throat and chest, making his hands curl into fists as he stormed over to Wendy. His footsteps slapped against the gym floor, sharp staccato beats, and the whole while...he kept his sights on Acnologia. Acnologia, who blinked demurely and kept one large, brutal hand on Wendy's shoulder possessively.

One second Natsu was by the tape station, and the next he was directly in front of Acnologia.

Natsu had to tip his head back in order to make eye-contact - Acnologia was a giant of a man. And even so, his hands itched to bury themselves in his face. Instead, Natsu settled for digging his blunt nails into his palm.

"What did you do?" he seethed in a low voice.

Acnologia's icy eyes narrowed, as though offended that Natsu had even dared to speak. "I taught her," he said simply.

"You broke her nose," Natsu corrected, and the reminder made him want to scream. Settling for a growl, Natsu held up a curled fist, the veins in his arm spiderwebbing all the way up to the pulsing line in his throat. "How 'bout I break yours?" he offered.

Silence erupted in the gym as all the fighters promptly froze. Not even the sandbags dared swing on their squeaky hinges. The entire room waited with bated-breath.

Because to threaten Acnologia...was to sign a death warrant.

Very few dared to challenge him, and those who did were escorted from the Ring in body bags. Sometimes multiple bags. Acnologia had a penchant for ripping his opponents to literal shreds with his bare hands.

"You're challenging me?" Acnologia asked, and his stance changed. From relaxed but attentive, to alert and tensed for a fight.

Instead of answering, Natsu simply charged. He had to be fast, or he'd lose before the fight even started.

Acnologia had not gained his reputation for nothing.

"Wendy!" he called as his fist barely graced Acnologia's cheek. "Get away!"

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her back away in shock, her eyes wide with fear. Now that she was out of their immediate surroundings, Natsu could go all out. He'd get revenge on her behalf, and make sure no one would ever lay a finger on her again without knowing the consequences their actions would reap.

Blind fury fueled Natsu's movements, his usual finesse long gone. Instead of reading his opponent, he struck wherever there was an opening and barely avoided Acnologia's meaty grip.

Underneath Acnologia's arm, his vulnerable side, his feet…

Natsu aimed for them all. Sharp, quick blows that dealt little to no damage considering that Acnologia was almost as fast. Which was surprising given a man his bulk and size, but Natsu had suspected as much.

Unfortunately, though, while Natsu had the upper hand in speed...Acnologia was much more calm. Much more seasoned. And much more brutal.

He deflected Natsu's elbow, which was heading for his sternum, grabbing and twisting it behind Natsu's back. The move wrenched Natsu to the side, allowing Acnologia to wrap his other arm around Natsu's throat and constrict.

He held him there, laughing into Natsu's ear, before slamming him against a wall just as Natsu thought the next breath would be his last. His lungs were burning, and it cost him all he had to suck in air between the coughing fits that shook his body. Seething rage was the only thing that pulled him back to his feet, and he would have thrown himself at his enemy again - had not something held him back.

Strong arms gripped him, and he blindly struck out blow after blow to free himself.

"No!" he roared. "Lemme go!"

It worked once, and almost a second time, but the muscle men were many, and they had not only brute force - but batons. Acnologia looked on indifferently as Natsu went down and one slammed a syringe into his right shoulder.

The room went blurry, but still Natsu struggled to get up, desperately trying to hold on to consciousness.

Ripping the needle from his arm, he summoned enough energy to charge one last time. He lowered his head and tackled Acnologia at the waist, grunting and huffing. The speed and force - aided by the element of surprise - were enough to topple the pair to the floor. And there Natsu had his chance.

Though his vision grew dim and the sounds around him were growing murky, like he was underwater, his hands settled on Acnologia's right arm.

And gave a sharp yank.

A grizzly popping noise, echoed by an infuriated roar, were the last sounds that Natsu heard before succumbing to the drugs pumping through his blood.

- :: -

Zeref was neatly arranging a stack of documents in his study when a knock on the door disrupted him.

This was unusual.

Zeref didn't like unusual.

It was not yet time for any reports, and usually no one disturbed him in here. It was he who decided when to leave, it was he who had everything tidy, ordered, under control.

This knock could mean nothing good.

Zeref granted entrance to the disturber with a clipped, "What is it?"

Said disturber opened the door and slipped inside, his head bowed. Zeref recognized him as one of his many hired muscle, Jerome, a man who took far too much pleasure in the suffering of others. But, seeing as how he was usually obedient, Zeref kept him on the payroll - he was very good at scaring the young ones into following directions anyway.

Almost always filled with confidence and bravado, he now presented himself humbly by keeping his head lowered.

No one stood taller than the Master.

His mood having soured already, Zeref waved a hand. "Speak."

"There was a small issue in the gym, Sir," said Jerome after a curt nod. "A scuffle involving Acnologia and Salamander."

At the mention of his younger brother, Zeref abandoned the stack of documents. He sat up straighter in his chair with interest.

"Who won?" Zeref asked.

The muscle man blinked. "Sir?"

"Who won?" Zeref repeated, his tone growing dark. He loathed repeating himself.

Jerome, seeming to understand that he'd fumbled, took a few steps back. A wise decision on his part. As was the way he flattened his palm over his heart in a loyal salute.

"No one, Sir…" he murmured, shaking his head. "We disbanded the fight after Acnologia strangled Salamander. We didn't want to risk the chance of one of our best fighters dying outside the ring."

A pity, to be sure.

Even Zeref would have liked to have seen the outcome of a match between Salamander and Acnologia. Their bitter distaste for each other was practically legendary in Tartaros. But, Jerome was also very right.

If either of the two died, then Tartaros would suffer a huge loss in profits. Natsu more so, as he was by far the most popular choice in the tournaments and between the bedsheets. He was, as others so crudely put it, the cash cow - his body provided a gross source of income that would be sorely missed.

So if and when Natsu died, it would be in the ring.

"But, even after we separated and drugged Salamander," Jerome continued in an uneasy manner, shifting nervously, "he still managed to dislocate Acnologia's arm. He's being treated as we speak."

A dislocated arm?

Zeref made a noise of approval as he folded his hands in front of his chin. Even after being pumped full of drugs, his little brother had mustered up enough strength to damage his opponent.

Sitting there, Zeref couldn't help but fill with pride.

"Acnologia suffered minor injuries, he will be fine." Fine, but angry, Zeref had no doubt. "So why are you reporting this to me?"

"Master Zeref, Sir, we just assumed a fight of such caliber in the middle of the gym...uh…" the muscle man trailed off, fixed under Zeref's cold gaze.

"Thank you," he said coldly, his anger growing by the second.

Jerome stood there a moment longer, and Zeref was tempted to fire him on the spot. Except… you couldn't just fire the retainers of the Ring. No, the risk was too big, even if said workers were mostly pure muscle and nothing much else.

This one seemed to be a particularly dumb specimen.

"You can leave," he spat, deciding he would later think about if said leave would be applied to his entire existence. Being the master was such a nuisance at times. So many decisions to make. And so many annoying disruptions.

He sighed when the man finally left.

Still… Natsu revolting like this, for whatever reason - it was something that had not happened in years. Zeref had thought he had finally been able to convince him the way of no resistance was the wisest, and best for him.

Pulling open a slim drawer, Zeref regarded the little ziplock bag he had placed inside a few days ago. The gold sequins glinted in the light.

Natsu had been in a deceptively good mood, if his sources were viable. Zeref himself never saw a side of Natsu that could be remotely described as pleasant. Not anymore. Not yet.

It was as if a seed had been planted back into Natsu, the will to resist, and Zeref found himself wondering just why that was.

For now, though, he would make sure to rip out that seed before it had a chance to grow.

Picking his sleek Blackberry up off the table, Zeref selected the assistant that had proven to be his most effective out of the fighters who seemed all too eager to change sides and live on the other side of the cage.

"Zancrow," he greeted curtly, "Salamander will be on lockdown in the dungeon for the next two weeks. He will not see anyone except Acnologia. He will take care of his private training."

Ignoring the rather unsophisticated answer, Zeref cut the line.

He'd have a good talk with Acnologia as soon as he was back on his feet. For disciplining Natsu, he was just the right man, but Zeref would make it clear that any step too far would be severely punished.

He tried to smooth the creases in his forehead, massaging it with cool fingers. Maybe this would put some sense back into Natsu.

If he could only understand. It was for his best.


Natsu VS Acnologia! And a little insight into Zeref...hmm...

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Next time! Chapter 9: Parry