ʚ o͏p͏e͏r͏a͏t͏i͏o͏n͏ a͏c͏h͏e͏ ɞ | aot x levi's daughter

chapter two : june

cw: heavily implied child abuse

                                            ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　 　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

the fighting ring is where kuchel felt most powerful, so alive in the essence of smoke and metal she was drenched in it-she drowned in it selfishly. she trapped it in her lungs and called it the oxygen she needed to breathe.

she had lost count of how many children she beat to the ground. after a time, their faces would fade into the recesses of her hazy memory, her devious soul so intertwined with winning that they would disappear from her mind.

she doesn't feel remorse. she's just trying to live, to survive in this battlefield they called the underground, and if that meant sneaking out to the underground every few days and taking advantage of erwin smith's kindness and using it to beat other children to a pulp while surrounded by cheering voices of drunk criminals and prostitutes, then so be it, even if just for a handful of extra change she could use to buy small scraps of food from the market upstairs.

she loitered around the area, adults congregated around a dug-out pit where scuffling and roaring could be heard. she couldn't see what it was, but she presumed it was a fight.

she slumped against a stone column as it continued on, merely listening to the crowd's ovation to gauge how it was going.

eventually, though, an uproar surged as money started to circulate between the grownups, chagrined faces meeting individuals beaming with triumph and delight.

they dispersed, all sound in the room following them out, going their separate ways, revealing the two children that had been the centre of their attention.

one was wheezing on the ground, soaked in blood from her nose and the back of her skull. it swelled around her head like a twisted halo, the universe's grotesque way of advertising its belief of trans-angelic exodus. her breath went in deep, hefty pants, and their hands jerked beside them, sprawled out, palms to the ceiling. she was draped in filthy, torn apparel that had to of been worn for years. the long sleeves almost reached her elbows, and the shirt was too small to shield her midriff, which exposed scars and bruises, a deep maroon nebula bending its way around her torso.

her hair was presumably blonde, but it was soiled from grime and dried blood. it was skewered around her head, with inconsistent cuts and uneven layers evident. their skin had a sickly-green twinge to it, making her already pale skin seeming almost translucent, but that was the norm in the underground.

her opponent, the victor, held firm over them, casting a dreary silhouette over their figure. the winner had a few cuts and cardinal patches forming on their face that would very likely develop violet and chartreuse over the next few days. their crimson-stained hands were locked in tight fists by their sides.

they stood and scowled at the other, who hadn't yet sat up, before spitting on them and walking away towards a tall figure in the shadows at the entrance. the man patted the kid on the back, probably in praise, and guided the victor out with his hand, prize money in the other, and not sparing a glance at the child in the pit.

kuchel watched and waited, but the girl never sat up or showed any indication of consciousness aside from the deep breaths they took.

she rose to walk up to them, her footsteps echoing in the fighting area, and slid into the pit, resting on her knees and surveying the loser.

she had sharp features and thin, golden brows. their ears looked to be too big for their head, and she seemed to be unusually tall for the age they appeared to be.