Azure Akuma [Fire Force x M!Reader]

«|| 04. Company 8 and Their Recruitees

When Hibana said you would take a couple of tests before joining a Fire Brigade, she never mentioned anything about potentially getting your ass completely handed to you... because that's what was happening now.

You propelled yourself backward with the flames that spewed from the soles of your feet and skidded to a painful halt. Your flame tail, as you'd call it, almost seemed to twitch with nervousness.

Supposedly, you were to take some tests regarding your newly acquired fire powers at the 'well known' Haijima's Industry, though the 'well known' part meant nothing as you never did know anything about it. Before this, you had taken other tests, and we're asked multiple questions, like 'When did you get your flames?' and "Was it always blue? What can you do with your flames so far?", including some blood tests here and there, but the employees there never once mentioned that you were to display your skills. It would've been okay if you weren't fighting a man who enjoyed kids suffering!

You were practically running off of adrenaline and what your instincts told you to do, but you can only get so far with that; you had no training, and it was beginning to show. You only had so much strength to keep yourself from collapsing on the spot. Your current wounds pulsed painfully at the thought alone.

"Aw, is the little boy tired? And I thought we'd be able to play a little longer." The tall, dark-haired man jeered; his golden cat-like eyes were cold and unforgiving. He paced around slowly at his end of the room, the black wisps following his every step as if to mock you. You growled lowly.

"Shut up! I'll make sure cave your head inwards when I get over there!" That is... if I would even be able to graze him. You clenched your teeth harshly. Still glued to the floor, the horns on your head seemed to burn hotter, and your tail swayed lazily. What were you to do now? He pretty much read all of your moves like a book and exploited all of the weaknesses you never knew you had. With a small grunt, you raised yourself again, ignoring the calculating eyes of the people behind the glass wall next to you.

With a burst of blue flames, you shot towards the man, Cat Man- you'd call him since his name was still left unknown to you. You snickered quietly.

"Get ready old man, 'cause I'm coming to beat your ass!"

The raven-haired man's frown only deepened a tad more, already figuring out your next move. He sighed softly. As soon as you get closer, he'd swipe at your legs, effectively knocking you down for a bit, seeing as it already happened twice.

As you progressively got closer, your speed spiked up exponentially, and the man moved to swipe at your feet with his newly formed sword. He leans back slightly and swipes a second time, under the impression he won the third round only for you to crouch low at the last second and kick the last kunai out of his grasp. You then backflipped two paces, a good arm's length away from him, easing into a fighting stance.

His eyes widened slightly, though onlookers wouldn't be able to catch the slight change in his demeanor. And only then did his scowl lessen, and so did the bandages on his forearms, revealing a charred excuse of an arm. All you could do was look in awe.

"Finally, a child worth my energy." You cringed outwardly; he still needed to work on wording his sentences properly.

With a flick of the wrist, his black smoke formed more kunai and shot them in your direction. You shifted your body swiftly, nimbly avoiding each of them. Again, you somersaulted upwards, the flames from your feet boosting you significantly, and dove downwards to strike his head- only, he moved swiftly to the side, causing you to miss his head by a fraction and stumble to the ground.

Before you could even boost away, he grabbed your ankle and swung you a couple of times before letting you hit the ground harshly. You rolled quite a distance before slamming into the wall, a cloud of dust following suit. You screamed out in pain, your body already at its limit. At this point, you were no more than a sack of potatoes, considering the way he flung you with ease. You held up an ashen hand and made a fist.