𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏𝟗 | 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀

Everyday Pleasures

APPROACHING one of the onlookers of the night, Reaper tapped him on the shoulder and watched as he turned towards her with a scowl on his lips, all intimidation then lost upon catching sight of her. He was sharply dressed, and seemed to be on the wealthier side of the scale, therefore becoming more increasingly on edge the longer he stood in her ever darkening presence.

"Y-Yes?" He stuttered before clearing his throat. "What do you want?"

"You seem to like watching fights, yes?" She questioned, continuing onwards when he gave a hesitant nod. "Is there a more official place to register or watch a fight?"

"Of course there is!" He let out a strained laugh to make it seem like he wasn't completely terrified of her, placing an almost protective hand over his protruding stomach. "The most popular place like that is called Heavens Arena. It has an entire system in place that's far more official than these street fights. However, it's on the other side of the island. You'd need to take an airship to get there."

"There's no need," she announced as she waved her hand at him, stepping away from the fight. "Do you perhaps have a phone?"

"Um... yes?" He seemed wary with his answer.

"Give me the exact coordinates of the building and a picture," she demanded.

"R-Right," he gulped, taking out his touchscreen phone and quickly searching up the information before reciting it to her, then fiddling with the device for a second more before showing her a visual of the Arena, a large tower that seemed to dwarf other buildings. "There you go. Is that... all?"

"Yes," Reaper announced as she conjured the mist again and stepped through. Thank you for your time, sir."

With that, she was gone.

The man was quite relieved to see her go.

Walking out of the mist, Reaper found herself in front of the towering Arena, finding that it was just as large—if not larger—as was shown in the picture.. Upon sight of the large line just for entering and signing up, she sighed, however waited patiently. Thankfully, the line moved fast, and soon enough, she reached the front.

"Welcome to Heavens Arena!" The receptionist greeted with a large smile stretched across her face, the look seeming entirely fake to Reaper as she was handed a slip of paper. "Now if you don't mind filling out this form, sir..."

After writing out the classic information such as her birthdate, her height, her weight, etcetera, Reaper then faltered when reaching the empty space for her name. It had been so long since she had used her name that it all seemed like a distant memory to her—a fuzzy recollection that she could barely remember, something that made her eyes narrow. After all, they were the ones who gave her her name, so it was only natural that she despise it.

"Can I go by an alias?" Reaper asked.

"Pardon?" The receptionist blinked, as if not expecting such a question. "No, I do not believe so, sir. It's because we need your name to wire you your winnings. If you could hurry up, please, there's a long line waiting behind you."

"Of course, my apologies," Reaper uttered as she bent down to continue signing, giving the receptionist the paper when she was done

"Hm?" The woman cocked her head at the information before giving another forced smile. "Mr. (Y/N)(L/N)? How feminine." Her next words then sounded as if she had recited them again and again as she continued, "You are number 1995. On the first arena floor, they'll be calling you by your number, so try not to forget it. Please go on ahead."

"Since I cannot use an alias, please just use my last name for announcements," Reaper, now known as (Y/N), requested, the receptionist flinching when continuing to stare into the depths of the shadow caused by her hood. "Can you do that?"

"O-Of course," the receptionist quickly agreed as she wrote Reaper's preferences down. "We can absolutely do that, sir!"

"Thank you," she nodded before finally walking inside and down the long corridor of the Arena, loud cheers of the audience already audible.

Soon enough, (Y/N) found herself in a large stadium where a dozen or so fighting rings were spread about in the middle, rising stands with many spectators already in their seats encircling the space. Taking a seat, waiting for her number to be called, she closed her eyes. This space was much like the place she had grown up in, yet, the energy was completely different. Here, in Heavens Arena, there was hope and vigor and determination pricking the air that only furthered a fighter's purpose. Where she had grown up, however, there was only a silenced type of fear emboldened by the desperation of not wanting to lose to an opponent. After all, if they lost, they were only subjected to experimentation designed to make them 'stronger.' How the screams rang in the night air was but another reminder to win.

"Numbers 1995 and 2006, to ring D," a voice over the speaker announced.

(Y/N)'s eyes flicked open.

It's a good thing I destroyed that place, then.

Standing upwards and drifting down the stands, feeling several pairs of eyes boring into her form, she then entered the specified ring and waited for her opponent. She didn't have to wait long, for soon enough, another woman stood confidently in front of her, her eyes sharp and calculative while her fingers twitched, as if already planning out her next moves. (Y/N) stood still, staring at the woman who only gave her a glare in return. She expected this type of hostility as they were opponents, but then again, it was still so tiring.

How disappointing.

Well, this is the lower-ranked side.

I'll have to wait to ascend the floors until I can possibly find a descent opponent.

(Y/N) glanced up when the overseer arrived.

"This is a first floor fight, so we will be appraising your skill levels," the man overseeing their fight explained as he stood on the outside of the ring. "You're allowed three minutes to demonstrate what you're capable of." Placing one hand behind his back while the other raised before dropping, he announced, "Now... begin!"

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To be continued...