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CHAPTER FOUR
weigh in
be officially weighed before or after a contest.
It was time. The first fight, the first weigh in.
Natsu had done this plenty of times before, and he would do it again. But there was something about that first night where he would step onto the scale and have his weight recorded that made his nerves thrum in excitement. The thrill made him both nauseous and fired up.
Soon.
That first night was something else. For a brief, blinding second he would forget where he was and what he was about to do. All he would see were the lights burning overhead, the haze of cigarette smoke and the twinge of champagne floating through the air. He could feel the tape around his wrists, patted down around his knuckles for security and strength.
For a moment he remembered smacking his father's hands, once, twice, three times for luck. His stomach flopped at the thought, his fingers brushing against the back of his hands.
It was almost time to go. They would get Natsu, tie up his hands and drop a moldy bag over his head. Then he would be driven to a mystery location, so secluded that their guests would be invite only. Natsu would spend the next week there, entertaining their guests with not just his fists.
He eyed Wendy, who was sticking so close to his side, she might as well have been glued to his hip. She was holding Charle in her arms, fluffy fur rather tousled from her constant clutching.
They hadn't known one another for longer than two weeks, but she had stuck to him the whole time. Natsu didn't want to leave her alone - who knew what would happen to her in just a week? But logically, he knew for the week he would be gone, Wendy's training would include watching the fights.
To get her used to what she would soon be doing.
He dropped his taped up hand on her head and flashed a grin at her. "Cheer for me, all right?"
This seemed to be the exact opposite of what Wendy needed to hear, and Natsu nearly recoiled at the sight of her eyes filling with tears.
Abort, Natsu. Abort!
"Is that really all I can do for you?" Wendy whispered, looking down at her feet. Already her toes and fingers were starting to get that grubbiness that only came from living in a cage.
She was only twelve.
Natsu's chest ached and he twisted around, kneeling in front of the girl.
"Nah, you can do something even better." Natsu flashed her another crooked grin.
He took a quick glance over his shoulder to see if the guards were coming for him yet. The last thing he wanted was for one of them to oversee this.
"It's a secret though, okay, Wendy?" Natsu's grin widened as her expression seemed to calm and harden with resolve. He lifted his hands in front of her face, propping his elbows up on a knee. "Give 'em a good smack. Three times."
His heart bled a little when Wendy's eyes lit up, no doubt recognizing the old tradition for what it was.
Her small hands connected with his large ones, slapping against his knuckles three times as directed. The strikes were feather light, and Natsu barely felt them. He wondered if that was how his father had felt when Natsu did the same as a child.
"For luck," Wendy whispered over his taped hands, like she was telling them a secret.
And perhaps they were - sharing something to give them both comfort when Natsu faced the upcoming threat.
"Nothing can beat me now." Natsu strangely felt the words in his gut. Like Wendy's small gesture had given them life. He smacked a fist into his open hand. "I'm all fired up!"
The young girl's face brightened - and then he watched it slowly fall, staring somewhere behind him. He soon knew the reason why as he turned to follow the direction of her gaze.
Two of the muscle men were heading for them, their tight faces void of any emotion (or intellect, he thought with a weird sense of satisfaction). It was time.
Shooting Wendy a last reassuring smile, he ruffled her hair and got back up.
He offered no resistance when the men grabbed one of his arms each, just tightened his body and gave a good glare to the blond one who always got a kick out of treating them like dirt. Resisting would have been of no use, and frankly, Natsu had lived through the process long enough to not only know this from experience, but to crave the fights that awaited him like a well-trained dog.
Besides, if he had resisted, they would have dragged him out. That wasn't something he wanted Wendy to see. Natsu may not have had much, but he still had his pride. They had never taken that away from him.
One breath later, a black bag was thrown over his head and tightened around his neck. A gentle nudge against his leg told him Happy was with him, a comfort even as Natsu struggled to breathe around the rancid fabric covering his nose and mouth. It smelled strongly of fish, as did everything outside of the walls he lived in. Even through the bag he could pick up the faint scent of salt in the air. Birds cried nearby and moisture clung to his skin.
He was lead outside by the two men, where he was shoved into the back of a van. His knee caught the lip of the car, drawing a hiss of pain from him and a smack from nearby.
"Careful with the merchandise, dumbass. He's fighting tomorrow night, and if you blow out his ACL or something Zeref will throw both of us into the ring instead!"
"Relax, Salamander's fine! Right?" Natsu felt a hard smack to his shoulder, causing him to grunt in acknowledgment. "See?"
"Whatever, don't forget the cat."
Natsu stiffened when he heard Happy let out an offended cry and the sudden sensation of startled claws sinking into his stomach followed not long after.
"Watch it," Natsu snapped at them. "He's a cat, not a stuffed animal."
For his anger, he got a snort of amusement and a rough hand on the back of his neck. Natsu twisted when his center of gravity shifted and he was forced down onto his face. The bag scraped against his nose and his stomach rolled in revulsion. But he couldn't do anything as he felt a sharp pinch in the meat of his shoulder.
A needle plunged down, the syringe emptying into his bloodstream. Natsu was shoved onto his side and belted down.
"Night-night, Salamander. We've got a long drive."
The last thing Natsu remembered was the worried mewling of Happy near his head, and his gentle pawing at the bag.
"You know, he may not even be there," Gajeel said so low, his red eyes flashing up towards Lucy.
Erza had come through for him. A single ticket awaited him on his desk, tucked in a plain white envelope. Next day delivery, he had to commend Jellal on being quick.
"You're banking on a lot with how many fighters go through the rotations. You could go to this fight and never even see the Salamander."
Lucy balled her hand into a tight fist to quell the trembles shaking through her arm. She looked at Gajeel, his expression calm, but he couldn't hide the tightness around his eyes. The unsteady way he breathed or how he kept adjusting the holster at his side - Gajeel was afraid.
It was such a strange expression to see on his face from a man so renown for his intimidating stature, but it was to be expected. This was like a living nightmare for him, coming anywhere near the Ring. Which was why he would be waiting in the van with Levy anyway. It wasn't like he could blend into their surroundings.
"I don't care, this isn't just about him," she whispered.
Lucy felt Gajeel's hands tweak the earpiece hidden in one of her earrings. It was pretty, dangling down and catching the light like a yellow diamond. They may have been cut from cheap crystal, but they were no doubt one of the finer things Lucy wore out in public.
Not that she had a shortage of expensive jewelry, but she didn't dare wear them to an underground fighting ring.
"I ain't sure if you're brave or stupid, Bunny girl," Gajeel said with rough laugh. It was hollow around the edges, but he managed to keep his hands calm as he checked her sound gear for the hundredth time. "Last chance to back out."
"You wish," Lucy said with a small smile.
"Damn, but I really do," Gajeel heaved a sigh.
"Don't worry, Gajeel." Levy looked up from the control panel she was seated at. Tons of blinking consoles and lights illuminated her face, casting a shadow over her smile. "Lucy will be fine. And she has both of us to watch her back!"
"And we'll both be in the van," Gajeel argued back but swiftly threw his hands in the air. "I ain't gonna argue this shit anymore. It's bad enough we're even doing this - you two are civilians and I used police contacts to get you a damned ticket!"
"Oh hush, don't pretend like this isn't a police sanctioned sting." Lucy tapped a finger across her lips to test if her lipstick would come off on her teeth. "I don't see them nearby, but I know you have this place covered."
Gajeel grunted, dismayed over how easily Lucy had seen through his ruse. She fussed with her hair a little longer before turning to Levy with hope.
"How do I look?" Lucy questioned, bending forward to strike a glamorous pose.
Gajeel couldn't help his snort. "Stupid when ya do that."
"Gajeel! Don't be so rude!" Levy scolded, letting go of her headphones with one hand long enough to take a swipe at the man. She gave Lucy a gracious smile. "You look very beautiful and very rich. Cancer did a good job." Her expression turned apologetic a second later. "But...uh, yeah, Gajeel might be right? Try not to do that when you're inside."
Lucy's cheeks turned red and she gave both of her friends an irritated glare. Everyone was a critic.
She lifted her chin, acting more with the regal air she was raised with than one which a cop could only try to imitate. It was the sole reason she thought Gajeel had even been able to sell this to his Captain.
"All right then," she smiled, her cheeks still a little rosy, "It's showtime."
Natsu's head still hurt.
He had awoken in a haze, shoved onto the thin mattress in the corner of what he knew was his assigned changing and preparation room this time around. It had been empty except for very sparse furnishing (the mattress, a mirror, small table, chair, and a sink), the door locked.
An old-looking pitcher of water stood by the nightstand to help him flush what was left of the toxins from his body. He didn't bother with the glass, instead grabbing it by the handle and lifting the entire thing to his mouth.
He was careful not to drink too fast, the last thing he wanted was to cramp in the middle of his match. Natsu made a face as he drank. It tasted like metal, but it was clean and cold. Fresh from the pipe from the looks of it.
After the fight he wouldn't return to this place. At least not immediately. No, instead he would be escorted into the wing where the rich gathered. There he would be hosed down and scrubbed clean so he could further entertain their guests.
Zeref had a reputation to maintain after all, and he wasn't about to make their rich guests sit in squalor. Not when they were paying him top dollar for some of Natsu's "hands-on" time.
A rough knock on the door let him know it was time to go. He knew the drill by now, had memorized it just as much as he knew how to put on a show.
He was instructed to stay away from the door, the knob buzzing with the electric current of a taser to dissuade him in case he got any sly ideas about escaping. Not that it mattered, he had tried them all.
The one serving as his caretaker studied his hands to make sure the bandages were done properly. He was told to flex his fingers into a fist, and it was only through great lengths of hard fought patience that Natsu stopped himself from smashing it into their face.
His hands were tied together with a thick rope and then hooked to a wall. Natsu was searched for weapons before he had to endure having his clothes changed for him. Just the bandages and his fighting colors would be permitted into the ring.
At least it was a cool color this time. Red.
That made enduring the embarrassment of being searched a little more palatable. A little.
Then finally, finally he was lead out into the hallway by his tied hands like the leash on a dog.
Now, with the low rumble of conversation, applause and shouts drifting into the narrow corridor he stood in, and the muffy scent of mold and sweat, he could not afford to be held back by a little headache.
His pulse spiked, the promise of his nearing match sending a rush of adrenaline through his already tense body.
Natsu had enough clarity to know he was seconds away from being turned loose like a wild animal. His breathing slowed but his heart raced. His mind was racing with both fear and excitement.
Each step brought the crowd closer, the roaring of noise and laughter that reverberated over the walls and down the hallway where he was standing. He couldn't lie, after the day he had - he wanted badly to hit something.
So he didn't resist when he was pushed past a wrought iron door and into a poorly lit pit that barely passed as an arena. Broken tile bit into Natsu's taped feet. The tile was slippery, with still pools of water full of tadpoles trapped in the slopes.
An old Olympic style pool.
Natsu let out a violent swear, one that was magnified when the rope lashed free from his arms and through the slot cut into the metal door. Rubbing the tender skin, he crinkled his nose to take in his surroundings.
There were people lined up along the sides, all of them dressed in beautiful gowns or fancy suits. A delicate looking fence sectioned them off from the arena to prevent them from falling into the pool. They were all beautiful and rich, smug in the safety their positions allowed them.
Their area was clean, and it probably even smelled nice.
The crowd let loose an excited cry, alerting him to the presence of the other fighter. Natsu's eyes narrowed at the sight of his opponent. A middleweight from Sabertooth. Blond hair and a scar through his right eyebrow. Natsu knew the man only through reputation. He was one of the twin dragons, his brother nowhere to be seen.
The fighters took a moment to size one another up. After all it wasn't often they ran into another practitioner of the same style. The last time Natsu had run into one in the ring had been five years ago…
But the bell rang, cutting all thoughts short. They both let out twin snarls before lunging at one another.
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