Ragna the Bloodedge was unceremoniously teleported mid-step into the Great Stadium, and it was by very little that his handsome face avoided an impromptu hug with the floor.
[Welcome all of every different states of time and space! Everyone from all ages and places! Thank you so much for coming! Now, without further ado, let the 39th Champion Survival Gauntlet Tag Battle Tournament COMMENCE!]
He should be used to this by now. System hardly gave them a weekend to spare without coming up with some new grand bullshit event. Looking around, he greeted the familiar faces with a few nods as they all turned to the screens at the center of the main arena.
[In your hands you will find the newest and improved participation ticket! The rules are simple! Just scramble to your hearts content - and the duo with the most victories wins!]
Sure enough, a small metal card showed up on Ragna's right hand. He turned it around, hoping for an exit option, but alas, it was empty.
[This event is special in two ways! First, you will not be fighting the other tag teams: all your opponents are replicas, courtesy of yours truly! Every duo plays on the same field - you can't wear out or sabotage the other teams even if you wanted to!]
Many eyes turned to the usual culprits of mischief, with Ragna immediately finding that troublesome black trenchcoat a few steps ahead. Hazama adjusted his hat, hardly oblivious to the stares, but simply uncaring for the trouble he loved to stir up.
[Aaand second! Look at your cards, if you please!]
Eyes lowering, Ragna saw a number 4 slowly form on the previously empty metal surface.
[That's right, your tag teams are random today! Will you be able to work out your differences and rise to the top, or is the pressure simply too much? I can hardly contain my excitement! Follow the path to your numbered gates and start battling, future champions!]
Great. Ragna sighed, hardly making a move as the mass of people began dispersing through the main court's many exits. He could only hope his partner, whoever it was, would want to end this as quickly as possible.
When it got easier to breathe, Ragna the Bloodedge unwillingly dragged his feet to exit four. Someone had already made a beeline for it, and the closer he got, the less he enjoyed the sight.
Yeah, no, this guy wasn't someone he could reason with. "You're number four? Took your damn time!"
It was the maniacal red In-Birth, who fought with blood and a slasher smile from ear to ear. Honestly, Ragna found him creepy as hell to face, some berserker who didn't seem to give a shit about friend or foe. Not the worst opponent to go against, that's for sure, but to have as a partner? That was a hard pass.
"What's that look? You looking down on me?!" The irritated In-Birth snapped, already a few steps ahead. "Just move your ass and don't get in my way!"
Ragna let out a tired sigh and stepped down the corridor as well. His only hope was that this guy got tired quickly. He was full of openings, after all.
[That marks the end of the first wave! Glad to see most of our duos are putting their all into it! Time for a quick break, folks!]
"That's it?! That was too easy!" The berserker redhead complained to the disembodied voice. "Gimme the next guys right now! I can take them!"
[It's important to pace yourself properly and take breaks. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must compute the results. We'll be right back in a moment!]
"What, no! C'mon!"
His bloodlust really knew no bounds. While Ragna spent most of his time on the defense, just attacking as needed to keep his foes at bay, the In-Birth went all in with every blow, sometimes smashing through the replicas with no regards for them or himself. And those bloodshot red eyes were still sharply looking out for some new prey the redhead could chew on.
Ragna did his best to avoid eye contact, but eventually the bastard figured out they were the only two people here. "Hey, you! Fight me!"
"That's against the rules, remember?"
Not that he gave two shits about the rules, but Ragna wasn't about to waste his time entertaining a guy like that. "C'mon, just, whaddyacall it. A spar! For training or whatever!"
Ragna the Bloodedge glared back at those imposing eyes, hardly intimidated by that scrawny bastard. "Yeah, no. I'd rather not."
The redhead groaned. "All of you are like this, what's wrong with you people! This is a place to fight! It's what you're supposed to do!" He complained, and Ragna pretended not to hear it. "That's why I fight alone! I hate this stupid tag team bullshit!"
Digging his sword on the floor, Ragna leaned on it and crossed his arms. "Believe me, I don't wanna be here either. Especially with the likes of you."
"What was that?! You got a problem with me, huh?!"
God, just how loud was he gonna bark?! "Everyone's got a problem with you, dipshit. You're a shithead, no one likes you."
"That's none of my damn business! I just wanna do what we're here to do!" The redhead yelled, making his ears ring. "If any of you shitfaces were even trying-!"
"Is fighting the only damn thing you do? Hell, even the Mad Dog likes to eat and chat from time to time, how come all you do is talk shit?!" Ragna snapped back, although he would be the first one to admit he'd rather fight than speak to the likes of Azrael any day of the week. "Get a damn hobby!"
"Go to hell!" The redhead replied, with as much grace as Ragna would expect from the likes of him. "This is all I got, okay! And I'm not here to be lectured by the likes of you!"
Luckily, the argument had to come to a premature end as the announcement ring reverberated through the small arena.
[Ding-dong. Break time is over! Prepare yourselves, because the second wave is coming in five! Four!]
Ragna the Bloodedge readied his stance, picking his sword back up.
[Three! Two!]
The furious In-Birth was already looking out for his next prey to pounce.
[One! GET READY!]
Okay, these ones were starting to act a little smarter. Ragna kept the scythe-wielder at bay, but it was a bit difficult to actually defeat his opponent when he had to content with a partner who flung sharp projectiles at him every opportunity. Not that it mattered much, anyway. As soon as one replica fell to the floor and vanished, a new one would immediately take its place.
The deranged redhead In-Birth was at it again. He used his blood spears to distract foes (it was very effective in also distracting his partner), and leaped in for the kill. It wasn't pretty, it wasn't skilled, but it sure got the job done. Except for when his foe could counter the first blood wave, as that tiny fairy girl was doing right now.
She floated, pushing out red orbs and beaming small blue lasers, and in return a rain of sharp blood spikes kept pouring down on Ragna. After one hit the back of his head, he gave up on playing chicken. "Outta my way!"
With a scythe of his own, he hit the harvester away and went for the floaty girl. With blood crystals on the front and now him on the back, the replica had no chance to wiggle out of their grasp. Ragna the Bloodedge struck it down, and it disappeared in the air just as he met with those angry bloodshot eyes.
"Don't get in my way!"
"Don't attack me, then!"
As a response, the bastard hurled a blood spike at him. Ragna dodged just in time to see it skewer his pursuer, and with one final swing, he vanished that replica as well.
Did that guy just help him? The doubt was quickly squashed as more replicas took the field, and the angry In-Birth proceeded to attack them with no regards to Ragna's proximity to the blows. Just a lucky shot.
[Fourth wave vanquished! You are showing quite the potential! Time for a good rest now - you even get snacks! Just don't get too comfortable, it doesn't end until there's only one team standing!]
The blood stains all over the court cleaned in the blink of an eye, and a small table appeared in the center of the field after a flash of light. It had all sorts of pastries, chocolate and candy, coffee, cake, and even fancier stuff Ragna didn't really know the name of. If his partner had been the Rabbit, he could absolutely hear her complaining about the quality of room service.
Still, he gladly sat down and got himself some water.
After nibbling a bit on some small cheese bread, Ragna the Bloodedge turned his head to the side. The redhead In-Birth was sitting down on the floor, sulking just like in the last breaks. Now, Ragna was glad that bastard wasn't much for conversation, but he couldn't help but wonder out loud.
"Not gonna eat anything?"
The bloodshot red eyes turned to him with a vicious gleam. "Eating slows me down."
Yeah, no shit. His ribs were so sharp, Ragna could use them as a makeshift xylophone. "Not even a chocolate?"
"No."
"Okay," he shrugged, turning away. It was better not to extend the eye contact. Who knew what ticked off that bastard. Actually, scratch that, who knew what didn't tick off the berserker In-Birth.
Ragna was trying out the plain cake when he noticed movement from the corner of his eye. With some visible difficulty, soaked hands slipping a bit, the redhead stood up. He silently walked over to the table, eyeing the food with suspicion, before grabbing three tiny strawberry chocolate bars.
The redhead's bony fingers were shaking a bit as the In-Birth ripped open the candy. With one single ravenous bite, he devoured it, but his eyes still gleamed hungrily, glancing back at the table.
When he met Ragna's gaze, the angry redhead quickly looked away with a dismissive, yet somewhat guilty stance. "There! I ate! Good enough for you?!"
Ragna the Bloodedge hoped for the ring of sweet release, but there was still time before the end of this break, much to his luck. Watching that scrawny guy press his own lack of a stomach, Ragna couldn't help but feel the tiniest little bit of compassion. "You gotta eat something."
"I did!"
"Pinkie-size candy doesn't cut it. At least try cake. Or bread," Ragna retorted with a sigh. He really didn't want to go poking that angry guy for nothing. There were already enough people after his head. "You can't fight if you're starving."
"Shut up, you're not the boss of me!" The redhead snapped back, just as he feared. He really should've kept his mouth closed… "I said it slows me down!"
"Yeah, and it's better to take it slow than to collapse outright," Ragna the Bloodedge declared, staring back firmly. He wasn't going to be intimidated by some hungry brat, no matter how angrily that guy glared. "We're not racking points here, it doesn't matter if you defeat five less guys, but it sure's gonna sting if you lose because you fainted from hunger, isn't it."
"That's…!"
The In-Birth looked away, with no argument. Good, at least he managed to get it through that thick skull. "Now eat."
With a frustrated growl, the redhead pulled the opposite chair and sat down. "Okay, okay, fine! Whatever!" He complained, glaring like the food had personally offended him, but that quickly faded as he grabbed the first slice of garlic bread.
"Hey, take it easy. It's not gonna run away from you."
"Shuddup," the redhead complained through a mouthful of bread, now reaching for the cake. He sure switched moods quickly, huh.
Okay, maybe he should've listened to the In-Birth's words a little more carefully before trying to get on his high horse. Ragna himself had recovered fairly quickly from the bloating of a full stomach, and was feeling better than when this all started. His tag partner, meanwhile, was suddenly struggling to aim even a close-range blow.
And that wasn't good when the berserker redhead's response to frustration was just to try leveling everything around him.
The replicas were also starting to really act as a team, so it was hard to focus on a single enemy and keep them busy while the redhead went all out. Ragna the Bloodedge was once again playing on the defensive, only this time, he caught himself protecting his partner's back more than his own skin.
"Try to focus, you're hitting me too!"
"Stop getting so close to me!"
The redhead quickly dispatched his opponent, but what took the field in its place was a foe Ragna didn't want to meet even as a replica. Just the sight of the robot girl sent a chill down his spine, memories of the flesh awakened with the sharpness of the blade petals. At that point, he had no choice but to grab the boy's bony arm and pull him out of the way.
"Hey!" The redhead complained, blind to the shower of swords that just hit the spot he'd been standing on. "Get off me! Lemme go!"
"Listen up!" Ragna yelled over his screams, squeezing hard enough to make the In-Birth scowl. "You stay behind me!"
"What!?"
"You can't aim for shit!" He dragged them both out of range of the tiny girl with the big butcher knife. "Keep the pipsqueak outta my back and I'll open the way for us! If you need backup, yell!"
The bloodshot eyes met his serious gaze as he let go. Ragna wasn't hoping for much. "Okay."
Why was he even taking this so seriously? Ragna the Bloodedge sighed, readying himself to face the Prime Field Device. Maybe there were some people he just couldn't feel at ease going against, no matter in what terms they were opposing each other.
Whatever the case, he waited for her next move, and Nu's replica swiftly delivered. With a long smile, she send a sword his way, and Ragna parried it. They kept this game for a bit, with him dodging every blow he had no confidence in striking down. She was intent on heavy attacks, and just like the original, she only had eyes for him.
Alright, this was close enough! "Hey, bloody!"
The scrawny bastard had actually listened, and was glued to Ragna's back like an annoying tick. With his call, they switched over, and the sight of bloody crystals and a scream was more than enough for Ragna to assure himself of their victory. He focused on the tiny girl, avoiding the butcher knife and going for the finisher with a powerful swing.
Two replicas down, and two more took their place. What a fun little game.
What wave was this again? Seventh, eighth? At least the redhead picked the pace back up, he was ecstatically dividing their opponents at every opportunity, taking chances to squeeze a bloody spike between swings. And maybe it was wishful thinking on Ragna's part, but it seemed the In-Birth was being a little more careful not to hurl a thousand blood spikes at him when he got too into the fight.
Whatever the case, it was working out, somewhat. "C'mere!"
As soon as he heard Ragna's voice, the redhead would leap at the opportunity to switch opponents or keep the pressure against any annoying foes. He seemed especially content in the act of defeating the replicas, so Ragna made an effort to call him on openings to give the In-Birth the finishing blow.
It wasn't all flowers, though. With opponents like the blonde lady with darkness spears, the library woman in the blue dress and that huge old man with the claws showing up, they really couldn't lose focus for even a second. Right now it was just Nine ("just" Nine) and the Kung-Fu girl, but if they happened to get too unlucky with the next replica…
Just as he thought of that, the redhead struck down the smaller fish. "Too easy!" He boasted, but from the mere silhouette on the corner of Ragna's vision, he saw trouble. "Who's next!"
The metal snake bared its fangs, chain rattling as it extended, and Ragna the Bloodedge stopped its bite with one heavy swing. Terumi… Just the thought made the anger swell inside his chest, ready to pop. "Distract Nine, I'll deal with him!"
Without even a grunt of acknowledgment, the In-Birth was gone, ready to try his luck. When it came to fighting, that guy really had an appetite that could compete with the Mad Dog himself. Ragna focused on Hazama, a dark satisfaction as he quickly dodged the chains and cornered the bastard's replica. One blow wasn't enough to end this before his foe quickly booked it, but at least Ragna got to let his anger out.
He instinctively glanced at the redhead In-Birth, just to check, and…
"AWOOH!"
What the… Did that guy just howl? Ragna leaped to his side, hitting the replica of Nine with his balled fist of Hell's Fang, and that was more than enough to finish her. "You okay?!"
"Hahah!" The redhead laughed, barely greeting him before going after Hazama.
That guy was getting a bit too cheeky. Getting all up on the replicas' space at the first hint of an opening, trying to skewer them at every possible chance, the floor was slippery under Ragna's boots from all of the stains. And the worst part is, it often worked. And when it didn't, and the In-Birth led himself into a predicament… "Awooh!"
Ragna had to admit, it was effective at getting his attention, at least. A manic howl, completely unprompted, and his fist was swiftly connecting with whoever's face the redhead wanted gone. And just like that, the last replica fell to the floor and dissolved, vanishing without a trace.
[Amazing work! Only five duos remain - I wonder who will be the champions today? We'll have to wait and see! Now wipe the sweat off those foreheads, have some water and enjoy your well-deserved break!]
"God, it just never ends…" Ragna the Bloodedge groaned, sitting down on the floor and taking a deep breath. He couldn't believe there was still more to go. At this point, even Ragna himself wasn't sure if he still wanted to drop out or if he was fighting to win.
The In-Birth also sat down, breathing heavily from the last gauntlet. His face was flushed with color, but, when combined with those bloodshot red eyes, it just made that scrawny guy look sick.
Noticing his gaze, the redhead quite literally wiped the smile off his own face, rubbing his mouth with one hand as his brows furrowed into a scowl. "What."
Ragna the Bloodedge just shrugged, avoiding eye contact. The silence was awkward, so a question slipped out of his mind. "You howled at me."
Visibly flinching, the In-Birth turned away, frustrated. "So what!" He complained, like it was something to be ashamed of. "You came over, right?! So it doesn't matter!"
"So you were calling me."
The bloodshot eyes bulged in anger as they turned to glance back at Ragna. "So. Fucking. What."
"Alright, alright, geez," Ragna the Bloodedge was quick to dismiss it. "No need to make a fuss, I just wasn't sure. I mean, you like fighting, so I figured it was just you being…"
"I was calling," the redhead hissed between his teeth, visibly fuming. "That's it."
"Okay," Ragna nodded in agreement. "And I heard you."
"Good."
The disgusted way he spat out the word was quite something. Ragna had been mocked more times than he could count, but even the worst backhanded insult the Rabbit could come up never held as much emotion as that single word.
"You know," he sighed. Was it even worth to raise his voice? "Guess you're not the worst teammate I could have gotten."
The redhead glared bloody daggers at him.
"I mean, there's some people it's almost impossible to work with," Ragna the Bloodedge shuddered to imagine having to trust his back to Terumi (that is, Hazama) again. "But you… Yeah, as long as you're not trying to hit me, it's good, I guess."
He didn't know what to expect for an answer, but the redhead just lowering his head in silence was still far beyond surprising. The air was charged, stillness weighting on their shoulders. Eventually, the In-Birth pursed his lips and let out a hiss between his teeth. "Not used to this."
"Me neither," Ragna admitted, glad to resume any semblance of civil conversation. "Actually, I don't think I ever really fought beside anyone like this before coming to this place."
He certainly hadn't squabbled for fun before. Unless doing it as a kid with Jin counted for anything. "You seem used to it."
Was that disbelief he heard? Ragna half-smiled. "I mean, it's way easier than fighting alone. And the stakes are way lower, too."
The redhead rolled his eyes, annoyed. "I just wanna fight."
"That's it?"
He sighed softly. "Only thing I got. I'm trash. No good at anything else."
Ragna didn't know what to say. "That sucks."
"Shut up. I don't need your damn pity."
With a cheerful personality like that, it's no wonder that guy was angry all the time. Not that Ragna was one to talk. For a long time, he forgot how to smile.
"Gah…!"
Ragna glanced back, and his heart skipped a beat. Through the snowstorm, he saw the flowers of blood dry up, leaving only sharp blue icicles. Frostbite gnawed on his exposed skin as he pushed away that pesky replica, taking a few slippery steps back.
"Hey, bloody?" Ragna the Bloodedge called, but the only ones standing before him were the two girls in white, circling him in the middle of the blizzard like snow leopards. "Bloody— Hey, get off!"
He pushed the little heiress away, getting stabbed in the shoulder by an icicle for his troubles. Shit, two on one, huh? The kimono girl was definitely the scarier foe here, but without a way to attack from afar…
He needed a distraction. "Dead Spike!"
The monstrous head beast rose from the snow-covered battlefield, sharp jaws gaping in a howl of hunger. A mass of black darkness, it lunged at the girl in the kimono, just as Ragna forced an opening between the heiress' quick jabs and jumped at the opportunity. His scythe ready, he cut through the blizzard, dispatching the black-haired girl's replica. One down.
Now, he just had to be careful with the next… Oh, shit. Before getting the chance to take a breath, Ragna the Bloodedge had to greet the newest opponent in the field. "Hey there, Jin!" He snarled between his teeth, their swords screeching at each other where the blades connected.
He didn't miss this, that's for sure. Pushing each other back, the blonde swordsman was quick on the draw, bringing down the temperature. The little heiress backed him up, keeping Ragna on the defensive. They weren't the strongest, but the sting of ice was an annoying pain. It was tough to keep a clear head with every breath stabbing through his nostrils.
Still, Ragna had had it worse. This replica wasn't even one tenth of what the real Jin was capable of, with its repetitive jabs and over-reliance on the freezing icicles. Honestly, this was an insult to his little brother's bloodlust. If it weren't a two on one, Ragna would've already dispatched this faulty replica in two blows.
Just as he thought that, red pierced through the white. A bloody spear, straight into the heiress' back, and Ragna the Bloodedge had the opening he needed to swiftly separate those two. With this weak replica by itself, it was easy pickings. One swing of the scythe and it was done.
Following the heiress, Ragna cut the replica down as well, before finally reuniting with his tag partner. "You okay?"
The redhead's answer was to groan at him. "What I miss…?"
"Take it easy," two more replicas stepped into the cold battlefield, just as the last snowflakes fell. "I can handle it. Just back me up for a while."
"Don't tell me what to do."
In spite of his rebellious words, the bloody In-Birth listened to him. Ragna was starting to suspect this angry fellow was more bark than bite.
He was cornered. "Gh!" Done in by a precise shot, the last thing Ragna the Bloodedge saw was the replica of the little detective in blue, gun still pointed at him.
It all went black for a moment. His ears rung, the noise piercing through his heavy head. His entire body was tense, exhausted and afraid of a finishing blow that never came. Even if his mind, cloudy as it was, could understand this was not a matter of life and death, it didn't know how to explain that to his stiff muscles.
Still, Ragna pushed himself up after a moment, finding his partner locked in combat with both assailants. The In-Birth had managed to get rid of the small detective, and was now dealing with a different kind of hell: noisy children.
The smaller one was the blonde executioner with the iron fists twice her size, dishing out heavy blows to destabilize the redhead. Meanwhile, his escape was blocked by a replica of the Heart girl. Ragna held up his sword, but couldn't find an opening to enter the close-quarters fight.
He stayed on the edge, trying to catch their foes' attention, and eventually the Heart girl's replica took the bait. The moment her eyes weren't on the redhead, Ragna the Bloodedge went on the offensive, striking a path back to his hotheaded partner. "Need a hand?"
"About damn time!" The In-Birth snarled, with a hint of relief now that he could dodge safely. Their backs met, an uplifting warmth. "Switch!"
"Bit cocky, aren't we!" Ragna the Bloodedge replied with a smile, and they moved in unison, each stopping the blow meant for the other. His sword screeched as it met the metal fists, sparks flying in the air. "Alright— Huh?!"
Shit. His arm didn't hold against the sheer weight of that heavy punch, and the hilt slipped in his shaky hand. Ragna held up the slab of metal as a shield, but that was hardly helpful as a flurry of blows smashed against it. His shoulders hurt, tired, and a dizzy spell made his legs jitter, barely holding him up.
The little girl replica slapped his sword out of his hand, and Ragna the Bloodedge readied himself for the impact of that iron fist on his guts… But just in time, a gleaming red spike erupted between his feet, encasing his foe in a crystal prison, and Ragna's legs gave out.
Sitting on the floor, his face turned, finding the redhead. The scrawny In-Birth heaved, still holding up one blood-soaked hand, and his eyes met Ragna's surprised gaze right before rolling up as he tumbled down from exhaustion.
Ragna barely managed to hold out one arm and stop the scrawny guy from hitting the floor. "Hey…!"
The replicas vanished, a soft ring echoing through the stadium.
[Ding-ding-ding. That's the game, folks! Thank you very much for your efforts! Your final position will be displayed on the monitor shortly, so be sure to stay tuned!]
Who even cared about the results, damnit!? Ragna was still too worked up from the fight to even remember his situation. He just held the In-Birth by the shoulders, watching as the blood markings and the vivid color of that long sleek hair slowly vanished, washed away.
"Ugh…" wincing, the boy raised his head a bit. "Get off…"
Yeah, he was okay. "Quit yapping. Can you even sit up on your own?"
The thin face scrunched up in displeasure, but without the bloodshot eyes, this scrawny guy wouldn't intimidate a pigeon. "Did we win…?" He wondered in a raspy voice, before letting out a small sigh.
Ragna raised his head to the result screen. It took him a moment to understand the letters, his eyes somewhat blurry from exhaustion. "Second place."
The no-longer-redhead groaned. "Who's first."
"Huh…" well, wasn't that a team for the ages. Ragna the Bloodedge couldn't believe he was seeing this right. "The white armor jerk and the squeaky toy bear."
"You're fucking kidding me."
"Wish I was," Ragna pointed up, and the angry In-Birth scowled at the result screen with a hatred usually reserved for arm-cutting, church burning, sister-kidnapping murderers. "Hey there, you sure you can get up?"
"Get off me," the boy complained, his long white hair covering his annoyed face as he sat up. He still let out a groan through gritted teeth, but no more words came out.
Yet Ragna still had something to say. "Thanks."
"For what? We lost."
He looked away, knowing what to expect. "For helping me out there?"
The angry In-Birth immediately turned to him, fuming. "I didn't help you! I just wanted to win! If you moved your damn ass a bit quicker, we could still be fighting, shitface!"
"Whatever you say, bloody."
Ragna the Bloodedge was resting under the soft shade of a tree, eyes closed as he listened in to the incessant chatter. The only mildly good thing to come out of these tournaments was the final celebration, where everyone gathered to eat, chat and play. It wasn't really something Ragna was too fond of, but having the option was always nice.
But today had been a tiresome day, so all he wanted to do was lie down in the shade and enjoy a quiet afternoon. Maybe he'd be more interested in the festivities if he hadn't played along with the main event. Maybe, who knows. Ragna wasn't really interested in the what-ifs right now.
Grass cracked under soft footsteps, and Ragna the Bloodedge opened one eye to glance in that general direction. He was used to having people come check up on him. Celica was always the caring one, if overly sweet to the point of being awkward, the Narukami schoolboy would often try to chat, and sometimes the Harvester In-Birth took a break beside Ragna to unwind.
Only this time, it was none of them, nor any other person Ragna the Bloodedge would consider himself to have a decent relationship with. "My, fancy meeting you here," Hazama remarked, one hand on his stupid hat, smug smile looking as punchable as ever. "I suppose our second place duo today are sore losers, not even showing up to the party."
With a huff, Ragna turned away, watching the sunshine char the edges of the deep green leaves. "Piss off."
"Always in a great mood, aren't we?" The shady snake laughed it off, standing just far enough for Ragna to not consider getting up to kick his knees. "Still, I must wonder, just what did you do to have Carmine sulking that badly?"
Nope. Not taking the bait. "Guy's always pissed, what do I know."
"Angry, for sure, but he practically tried to bite my hand off for asking how he was doing," Hazama remarked, still trying to probe him. "I suppose you two are very alike in that regard."
"Sure," Ragna replied between his teeth. "So maybe leave before I snap too, snake."
"Yes, yes, and here I was, hoping we could have a civil talk. Silly me, really," Hazama shrugged, dismissive. "Take care so the pound won't catch you. Goodness knows an antisocial pup like you would be turned into soap in the blink of an eye."
And so, the footsteps faded into the chatter. Ragna's eyes closed before he knew it, a soft wind playing with his hair. Taking deep, refreshing breaths, he relaxed his tense jaw. Interacting with the snake was never an easy task, but at least it was brief today. Hazama probably had to put in some effort with his random partner as well, with how quickly he gave up on his usual shtick.
More footsteps, this time carelessly cracking the grass, but in an uneven rhythm. They approached with some hesitation, and Ragna was too tired to open his eyes right away, so he waited until the person was too close to ignore.
Ragna the Bloodedge waited, and maybe he missed a cue or two, because next thing he knew, the tree he was lying his head against shook slightly, and there was a small thump. Ragna opened his eyes just enough to glance around, finding long, flowy white hair and the furry neck of a sleeveless jacket.
The unusually quiet In-Birth sat with his back to Ragna and the party, hiding behind the thick trunk. Did he follow the snake here? With both strength and words exhausted, the second place tag team rested under the cool shade, an unlikely duo of lone wolves hiding away from the noise.
"Can we team up again?"
Ragna the Bloodedge was dozing off, so for a moment he wasn't sure if these words truly drifted in the air. "Sure."
It seems he didn't make foes with one more person today. That was a cause for celebration, in Ragna's humble opinion. With a deep breath, he drifted into the wind, only hearing a relieved sigh from the boy beside him before falling asleep peacefully. Little did he notice, yet Carmine did very much the same.
*FIM*
It's been a while, hopefully this fanfic is a nice, short read. My tag team for Survival Mode is Carmine-Ragna so there's the inspiration for ya.
It's fun to think of the circumstances that'd lead two characters to team up in Cross Tag Battle, especially when it's Carmine. I mean, c'mon, Carmine? My antisocial boy teaming up with people? Only in a spin-off game, truly.
Also, bless the English dub for giving him the Awoo. I love the Awoo. I'll happily lose if it means spamming the partner call button to hear the Awoo (but I still fight to win though!) English Carmine is best Carmine 10/10 will Awoo again.