Been a while since I last had a note at the top here. This chapter has not been beta'd (for the most part) and is subject to change. If you see any grammatical mistakes don't be afraid to let me know through Review or PM.
Purpose of a Hero
Inside the box seats reserved for the defeated contestants of the tournament, Rylee was still mulling over her disappointing loss, which was both in the first round and against the one person she absolutely didn't want to lose to. Her disappointment couldn't be mitigated by the fantastic view of the battlefield or the stacked buffet packed full of delicacies. Though hearing that Oliver's matchup would be Clara gave her a slight sense of satisfaction at first, her dislike for him wasn't so much that she was immune to pitying him in this one specific instance. No one who had spent any amount of time with Clara would want to fight her outright.
Even so, the thought of her recent embarrassments at the hands of Oliver had sent her self-confidence into freefall. When she'd initially gotten her letter, she thought she'd be fine, that the years of experience chasing after, fighting with, and training with her older brothers would finally pay off. Of course, within the first week, she'd been entirely humbled by Narruk and had been on a downward spiral ever since. Then came the festival and she blew it, once again. She tried to push the thoughts away but was mostly unsuccessful.
Right as she was weighing the pros and cons of a lobotomy via plastic spork, Saroya, her former partner, approached her, a look of understanding in her eyes. "Still down, eh?" Despite Rylee's only response being in the form of an annoyed grunt, Saroya seemed to get the message and settled into the seat beside her. "Sorry again about yesterday. I should have realized what that guy was doing when he led us into the light. He sure played us for fools."
"Oliver's… clever. Surprisingly clever," Rylee muttered, pushing her food around idly on her plate. The girls were silent for a brief moment, letting the ambient noise of the crowd below wash over them. Saroya was the first to speak, her tone curious.
"I do wonder how he'll do without Damien acting as his muscle. Especially against such a frightening opponent. Even the cleverest fox can't stand up to a bear." Rylee snorted at the image of a bear with Clara-esc features and glanced toward the two combatants' pictures plastered on the massive jumbotrons stationed around the arena.
"I wouldn't be surprised if he just forfeited off the start. It wouldn't be the first time," she said casually, causing her former teammate to look at her with skepticism.
"Forfeit? Ry, this is the biggest event of the year, there are thousands of people watching, and we only get four shots to make an impression that gets us drafted. There's no way he's just gonna quit like that." Although the mention of how big a stage she'd screwed up on caused a slight pang in her chest, she pushed past it, frowning thoughtfully. While she could understand Saroya's disbelief, there was a nagging feeling in her gut that she was right.
"Last time we went up against each other, before the tournament, I think he would have if Clara hadn't threatened him. I still wouldn't be shocked if he surrendered, but… if anyone can make him fight, it's her." Saroya frowned at her for a moment before shrugging and turning her attention back to her haul from the buffet table. Slightly relieved, Rylee let out a breath and glanced down at the stadium where Oliver and Clara had finally emerged onto the battlefield.
Even from their elevated position, she could see the sagging of his shoulders and the complete lack of energy his posture betrayed. Then, just before the fight began, she noticed someone looking at her out of the corner of her eye. Not too far away, easily within earshot of her and Saroya, Marcus sat between a chattering Andrew and Kira eyeing her appraisingly. She caught his eye, and he nodded at her, something akin to gratefulness in his expression. Suddenly, catching the two of them off guard, an ear-piercing scream echoed throughout the arena.
Purpose of a Hero
He had planned to forfeit. Sure, it would have seemed cowardly and probably would've gotten him some grief from his classmates (especially Marcus). Still, when the alternative was fighting the single most loud, obnoxious, and crass individual, he'd ever met who was sure to beat him into a bloody pulp for a few unsavory insults he'd directed her way in the past… forfeiting seemed like the most straightforward answer. That is until the match began, and his attempt at surrendering was drowned out by one of the girl's ear-splitting shrieks. The vibrations of her voice tore up the battlefield, kicking up a cloud of dirt, and slammed into him with the force of a speeding car. He felt, rather than heard, himself let out an uncharacteristic pained cry and reached a hand up to his ringing ears. Before he'd even had the chance to recover, a hand grabbed him by the straps of his tank top and lifted him into the air.
"Trying to give up, are we? You do know my promise of ripping you limb from scrawny limb still stands, right?" Clara growled. Oliver made no effort to struggle against her, glaring down at her reproachfully. His silence only seemed to amuse his opponent, who grinned and shook his body like a ragdoll before tossing him to the ground with enough force to knock the wind out of him. "Actually, thinking back on it, you lost us that race, so I already owe you an ass-kicking."
"You have blood on the corner of your mouth. Throat still not healed, I'm guessing?" Oliver shot back, lying complacently on the dirt. Clara scowled and wiped the offending substance off with the back of her hand. Just from a glance, he could tell her mauling at the hands of Narruk (which had been quite enjoyable to watch he had to admit) had left her more battered than she let on. She seemed to be making a concerted effort to control her already ragged breathing and had primarily supported his weight with her right arm when she'd lifted him. "Healers can only do so much, eh?"
"Not like you'd have to worry. The first two rounds must've been a cakewalk for you. You barely even lifted a finger and let that shadow idiot carry you through the first two rounds. I hope that nap in the last round will be worth getting the absolute shit beaten out of you," Clara responded, breathing much more controlled now. For a brief moment, she saw a flicker of something – annoyance or maybe irritation – in his eyes, but he quickly went stone-faced once more. When the boy tried to prop himself up on his elbows and glanced over at Ms. Whittaker, who was looking back at the two of them inquisitively, his opponent proceeded to stomp on his chest and force him back to the ground. While his Quirk allowed him to absorb much of the force behind the strike, the pressure on his chest made it all the more difficult for him to breathe.
"Have you put on weight?" He asked sardonically, his face twisting into a grimace. Although she showed no outward sign of being bothered by his taunt, the pressure building on his chest started increasing incrementally as she put more of her weight into her leg. There was a tense moment where the two of them only glared at one another, even the crowd was quieter, seemingly enthralled by the difference between this fight and the last. At last, Clara sighed and shook her head in mock disappointment.
"You're pathetic. Maybe I should really let you forfeit, gotta rest up for the weather boy afterall. I highly doubt Sirius will slow him down even a little bit. Hard to believe you actually passed the entrance exam over so many other, more worthy candidates. Whoever tested you must've been on something that fucked up their mind. You don't belong here." Oliver's stoic expression broke, and, for the first time, he looked at Clara in anger, which only broadened her grin. His brow creased in concentration, Oliver reached up and grabbed her boot with both hands, trying to apply enough pressure to give himself some much-needed breathing room. Surprisingly, there was a lot more leeway than he'd expected, though he didn't give himself any more space than necessary. 'She's more hurt than I thought.' If Clara noticed his movements, she didn't show it. "At least your idiot friend has enough guts to fight his own battles. All you do is run and hide."
With absolutely no warning whatsoever, Oliver's leg lashed upwards, stretching a full foot in length mid-air, and slammed into the back of Clara's head. His opponent now unbalanced; Oliver tightened his grip on her boot and pushed. While she didn't fall, Clara was forced to relinquish her position over him, giving him barely enough time to scramble to his feet and put distance between them. To his annoyance, Oliver noticed that his foe wore a manic grin as she regained her footing.
"Knew that'd give you a spark," she said haughtily. Drawing in a breath and ignoring the sharp sting in her throat, Clara let out a roar that once again tore across the field. This time, however, Oliver was ready and relaxed his body. Though his head was still ringing with the sheer volume of her scream, the vibrations crashed into his body, knocking him back a few feet but otherwise doing seemingly no damage. The very moment the attack ended, Oliver, ignoring the aching of his body, jumped into the dust cloud her voice had whipped up.
Purpose of a Hero
Clara had to give him credit. She'd been expecting to spur him into a fight by insulting his pride, but to have the moron basically nullify her attack, it was a pleasant surprise to be sure. 'Show me you aren't useless, asshole,' Clara thought, coughing up blood as she scanned the smokescreen. Her entire body seized up for a moment, and she let out an involuntary gasp. 'Damn you, Narruk.' At this point, she was sure there'd be some permanent damage. The scratched and bruises on her back still ached and bled through their stitches, she still didn't have full feeling in one of her arms and her leg could barely hold her weight without shaking. Worst of all, was her throat. Her Quirk had never once been overused to this point, not even during the particularly brutal training her father had begun putting her through over the past year. Granted, his training boiled down to 'get the shit beaten out of you and stand back up or don't eat for the day' and focused more on her physical form than the application of her Quirk. 'As much as the bastard talks about the purity of Quirks, he's barely taught me shit on how to use it.'
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement and turned towards the far end of the dust cloud. This time, her roar split through the obstruction and nearly hit Ms. Whittaker, but, to her shock, her opponent wasn't there. Lying on the ground, fifteen yards away, was Oliver's red tank top. It only took her a second to realize what had happened, but it was too late.
Oliver burst from the opposite end of the fog, and before she could adequately react, he leaped onto her back and wrapped one arm around her neck and the other around her uninjured arm, while his legs extended to entangle hers. His grip on her throat tightened, and he felt a few drops of blood drip onto his forearm. He then threw all his weight backward, trying to drag the girl to the ground, but to his astonishment, she didn't budge. It was like trying to pull down a tree with his bare hands, a very angry tree with no intention of being felled. One of her hands grabbed a fist full of his hair while the other, seemingly unaffected by his restraining hold, slammed into his thigh repeatedly. Thankfully with the latter, his body's increased elasticity dampened the blows enough to where he only felt a dull pain. Unfortunately, his hair was not as pliable as the rest of his body, and a grunt of pain escaped as Clara's hand twisted.
He knew his hold wouldn't last long. Clara was too experienced a fighter to succumb to his lackluster sneak attack. However, he had expected to put up a little bit more of a struggle. Instead, the moment Clara's body began to vibrate vigorously enough to make his body heat up even more than it already had, he knew it was over. The force of her vibrations created just enough of a gap in his hold. This allowed her to grab and force his arms over her head. The second her upper body was free; she twisted her torso and delivered an elbow to the side of Oliver's head. Unlike the rest of his body, a blow to the head couldn't be as easily dulled, and his vision shook at the force of the strike.
The tide of the battle had turned twice in a matter of seconds. Despite their legs still being intertwined, Clara grabbed her opponent by the neck and, as he'd failed to do earlier, shifted the entirety of her weight, forcing them to the ground. He barely had time to raise his arms defensively before she started raining down blows on him, each one becoming more and more painful as his Quirk's absorption abilities reached their limits. In a last-ditch effort, he unwrapped his legs from hers and stretched them upward, wrapping them around Clara's neck and pulling her off of him. His reprieve didn't last long as the moment she hit the ground, she was moving again, grabbing ahold of his legs and, humiliatingly, tying them into a knot before advancing on him once more. When he tried to force himself up, he was roughly pushed back to the group and held his breath as Clara's foot; this time positioned itself over his throat. "That was smart, using the smokescreen, targeting my weak points. You may have even had me if you actually did some actual training rather than play chess and dick around all day. All that potential is wasted on you."
Oliver scowled, but when Clara saw his arm move ever so slightly, the pressure on his throat became nearly unbearable, making his face turn red as he was deprived of oxygen. He knew she wouldn't really crush his windpipe, and she was starting to really feel her injuries if the strained expression on her face was any indicator, yet she'd proven that Quirk or not, injured or not, outwitted or not, she had beaten him soundly. It surprised him how much shame he felt as he raised his arms and finally did what he'd meant to do at the beginning of the match.
Purpose of a Hero
"Sirius, watch your left!" At the sound of his partner's voice, Sirius dove aside as a flurry of softball-sized hail swept past him. He hit the ground hard but was almost instantly back on his feet. The battle had started about as well as he'd expected. Payton, despite seemingly having issues with the accuracy of his attacks, had been after him from the get-go, pelting him with hail, bolts of lightning (which he thankfully hadn't yet been hit by), and near-constant gale force winds. Out of everything, though, the latter had proven the most difficult to combat, seeing as how he was a hundred pounds soaking wet and was slowed slightly by the awkward and hastily crafted baseball bat in his arms.
"Come on, man! Stop running away!" Payton cried as he dodged an uppercut swing from Epiphany and countered by quite literally blowing her away. Sirius glanced over his shoulder quickly to check on his partner (Even though she could not feel any sort of pain) and nearly got his head taken off by a piece of the wall paneling for his troubles. 'This guy's power is insane! There's no way we can beat him. He's too strong, he knows he has to target me, and Epi can't get a good hit in.'
"Stop being an idiot and get out of your own head!"
"Easy for you to say!" Sirius shouted back. Payton glanced between the two of them, a look of amusement on his face, and raised one of his hands towards the sky. Thunder boomed, and when the boy brought down his fist dramatically, another bolt of lightning slammed into the earth some distance away.
"Gah! Stupid small arena. Storms shouldn't be contained like this, makes it too hard to control!" Payton complained aloud, hanging his head and glaring at the puddle around his feet. In its reflection, he saw Epiphany's downward swing and just barely managed to dodge. As the redhead tried to advance, Payton clapped his hands together, pointing his index and middle fingers at the girl. The ensuing blast of wind knocked her, again, off her feet and skipping across the dirt battlefield until she slammed into the wall. 'I really hope that keeps her down for a bit. It's weird trying to fight someone who doesn't feel pain," he thought, turning to face his other opponent.
To his surprise, Sirius was already beside him, his weapon already in motion. In his panic, he let loose a completely unrestrained blast of wind that succeeded in throwing Sirius away but came at the cost of losing his footing and being blown back as well. He cartwheeled twice in mid-air before landing face-first in the dirt.
The sound of nearing footsteps told him that Epiphany hadn't been delayed as long as he'd hoped. He glanced up just as a massive wooden spike embedded itself deep in the dirt, not six inches from his face. There were loud thuds all around him as several more spikes joined the first. He was back on his feet as quickly as possible, but Epiphany was quicker. Leaping from spike to spike, she reached him in no time and brought her wooden sword crashing down on his shoulder hard enough to make him stumble back into one of the wooden posts.
The confined field was beginning to get on his nerves. Without the aid of his larger attacks, lest he get caught in the crossfire, he had been continually relying on wind manipulation to beat his foes back. When he again tried to use this on Epiphany, and she was sent crashing into one of the wooden spikes, he finally figured out what the spikes were for. 'Crap! How the heck am I supposed to blow them away now?' He wondered, watching warily as Epiphany recovered in an instant and placed one of her hands on the spike she'd hit. With a single wave of her hand, a barrage of splinters nearly skewered Payton as he scrambled behind another spike. He only realized his predicament when the spike erupted into a storm of wood shavings and slammed him into another.
"Now, Epi!" Sirius shouted from outside the maze. Before his opponent could carry out whatever plan they'd hatched, Payton reached to the sky and then brought his arm back down. The sky flashed, and one of the spikes nearest Epiphany exploded with enough force to knock the ghost off her feet. Of course, it was never that simple. He'd ignored the direction Sirius' call had come from and was caught by surprise when the boy snuck up and bashed him in his already injured shoulder. There was a sickening crunch as his entire arm bloomed with pain, and he stumbled back, dodging Sirius' next strike. Both of his opponents were right on top of him before he knew it, and it took every ounce of his training to evade or deflect their attacks.
"Two on one is really where you guys excel, eh?" He said his tone was light despite the situation. He nearly lost his breakfast when Epiphany jabbed the butt of her sword into his gut and knocked him back a few more paces. His jovial attitude was starting to wear thin. He'd not stopped losing ground since the fight began, mostly due to his opponent's unbelievable teamwork. "Guess Clara was the one holding you guys back."
"You better believe it, weather boy!"
"Why does everyone have to call me that?" Oddly, it was Sirius that delivered the blow that finally slipped his defenses and knocked him off his feet. A strike to his chest that was shockingly powerful, coming from the small boy. As he fell, he lashed out with a kick and managed to knock the boy's bat from his hands. It was almost as if nothing changed once he hit the ground. Sure he was on his back and only had one attacker to defend from, but other than that, he was still very much on the retreat.
Once his back hit another spike, he ducked under Epiphany's next swing and grabbed her wrist with his left arm while uppercutting her with his right. The girl's head snapped back, but, as usual, she recovered in an instant, driving her knee into his chin. The blow made him see stars, and it made his grip loose enough for his foe to free herself. Before she could take advantage of this, however, he swept her feet out from under her. As she fell, he rose and blocked Sirius' clumsy punch before pushing him away and glancing over his shoulder, looking for the end of Epiphany's forest of spikes. It wasn't far, just ten more meters, and he'd be out of their clutches for the time being.
"Woah!" He exclaimed as Epiphany flew at him again. 'Not this time!' As he backpedaled, Payton reached back with both hands and closed his eyes in concentration. In a few seconds, a massive ball of swirling dirt behind him kicked up by the accumulation of wind. "Gale Force Cannon!"
"Epi!" Sirius cried as his partner was flung backward at such high velocity that she crashed through several of her own wooden spikes before finally smashing into the wall of the arena. 'It's a really good thing you can't feel pain,' he thought frantically, though she did not reply if she heard him – which she always did. Picking up her fallen sword, he rushed at Payton and swung with all of his might. The sword struck home, and his opponent hard in his side, knocking him back.
If nothing else, Sirius had surprised himself during this fight. He'd taken a more active role, and it had paid dividends. Granted, he had a few more bumps and bruises than usual, but he'd actually managed to put up a fight against Payton, one of the best in their year. Not to mention, their opponent was slowing down. They weren't precisely winning, but it wasn't the embarrassing defeat he'd thought it would be. Brimming with newfound confidence, he charged again but was sent flying by Payton.
"Man, I was not expecting this much of a workout! Gotta give you props, Sirius. However, since I don't wanna get my butt kicked by Damien or Melody, I'm sad to say it's over!" Payton called, reaching one hand up into the sky. Sirius knew what this meant and glanced up at the dark clouds above the arena, though something didn't feel right. 'Payton's lightning strikes have been inaccurate the whole match. He must have something up his sleeve if he's so confident. That's fine. No matter what it is, I can dodge it. Bonnie and Clyde aren't done yet!'
Thunder rumbled overhead. Payton's face shifted to one of apprehension and uncertainty but quickly settled back into a confident smile. Lightning flashed, but to Sirius' surprise, the bolt struck Payton's aloft arm, sending tendrils of electricity streaming over the boy's body, making him grimace. 'He's channeling it. I have to move!' He thought frantically as his opponent grunted and raised his other arm to point directly at Sirius. The second before the attack came, he darted to the side, hoping that the bolt would pass by him.
Then, the unthinkable happened. Right as he took his first step, his foot caught on a small depression in the dirt. Then came the pain. Both Sirius and Epiphany screamed as electricity coursed through the former's body. The attack only lasted a few milliseconds, and the pair collapsed, unmoving.
On the other end of the field, Payton couldn't even hear the announcement of his victory over his own labored breathing. His costume crackled as the electrical conduits sewn throughout it burst and sizzled. "I always… hate that move."
Purpose of a Hero
Hey… been a while. We're nearing the end of this arc and hopefully once we get past it I feel less burnt out.
In the time since I last saw you all, I binged both Avatar the Last Airbender and Legend of Korra (both for the first time) over the course of three days, so that was fun.
Uh, like I said above this chapter is not beta'd yet. It may be later on and I will let you guys know if I do any significant rewrites or changes but in the meantime, we're pressing forward.
Next Time on the Purpose of a Hero:
Chapter 44: Semi-Final Showdown!
No Q&A this time.