𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗜 𝗪𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗜𝘀 𝗬𝗼𝘂 (Wednesday x Male Reader)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫: 𝟔

Y/n took in the sight before him.

Amusing, engrossing, diverting... perhaps; enthralling?

It was absorbing to eye the fight before him - a fight clenching dignity in its hands. The two females fought in a way as if their preeminence is substantial.

Indeed, they managed to acquire his attention.

A fight that didn't scream exigent - combatants who didn't cause wearying to the eyes. Undoubtedly, he would wish to see it again.

Y/n had always wondered if there will be another individual who will trounce the siren in a fight - someone other than him. Steadily, it did get tedious drubbing the siren. The days in this echelon were quotidian.

Following Bianca's first loss to Y/n, her self-esteem felt imploded at being bested by someone else. Her pride, like a glass cup, cracked following that there was someone superior.

Incomprehension held jurisdiction over her pride, causing her to challenge him to a fight every day to reimpose her fractured pride. Woefully, her challenges were nothing but an utter botch, as each challenge derived losses.

It wasn't until later on when Bianca discern she would never procure a triumph over Y/n - noticing how powerful he is - staunch in his adroitness - brought the siren's reliance on her skills down.

Subsequently, Bianca asserted she will never lose again to anybody, principally to a new student. Disastrously, that assertion is confuted today; more so right now.

He could see it in the siren's eyes; the various emotions clashing with each other. Anger, discontent, betrayal, and despondency. Clutching a fabric over her bleeding wound, Bianca glared at her opponent with brimming rage.

A congenital rage derived from jaundiced - an emotion he was familiar with in the past.

His gaze then shifted to a certain goth girl, who stood a couple of feet away from her opponent she defeated. Her chest rose and fell, short-winded from her battle. The corners of her lips twitched, restraining the impulse to grin at her triumph.

And then there was that emotion in the center of her iris - an ardor she's able to obscure through her impassive face. The sight was virtually reminiscing for Y/n - recalling a similar situation to his.

A vivid memory he grasps with all his strength.

When he first claimed his first victory against an opponent who everyone believed would crush him. Despite the large bleeding lacerate on his hand, the initial emotions of his first victory were so great he hugged the person he held dearest with all his might - the positive emotions were even more vehement after hearing how proud he was.

Truly, it was a memory he wouldn't falter to relive.

A low sigh soon escaped his lips as he stared at the old cicatrix on his right hand - the very first one. Perhaps that was fundamental for his defacement in the upcoming future - a future he had no control over.

He shook his head out of his minor trance, turning his gaze to the saber on his hand, and shortly recalling why he was in the practice room. Finishing his spar earlier, Y/n found no need to keep the weapon in his hand and decided to return it to Vlad.

For that, he had to pass through the cluster of students surrounding the injured Bianca and the victor of the fight; Wednesday. Did it irk him? Vaguely. Y/n wasn't fond of being around multiple individuals.

Perhaps their attention will still linger on the two combatants. Seeing as how he was wasting time, Y/n sauntered over to Vlad, succinctly of a stare directed towards him.