vi spits out fucking blood, the crimson red staining the already-dirty floor of the pit. she lifts her fists up, wrapped in thick bandages and swings them at her opponent; a man with a little muscle but mostly the brains instead of brawn. vi can see his brain turning and the cogs working as he ducks under her fists to loop around her, a light smirk decorating his face.

dammit. vi hates opponents like these. they take so much energy to catch and to throw down; she’d rather get a good beating instead of mental stamina being sucked out of her.

however, it doesn’t take long before the man’s antics run out, and vi can finally pin him to the floor in a chokehold for a solid minute; signaling her well-deserved, she thinks, win. she leaves the pit, allowing herself to grab a towel and to sit in front of the medic, eyes scanning the audience around the area.

she recognizes a few of them… some that are regulars to the fights in the underground.

but vi also recognizes… you. you, with your face almost covered in a soft hood and your manicured nails placing bets and bets and bets and winning every single fucking bet.

..you win every single bet because vi wins every single time.

vi scoffs to herself, almost ridiculed. but then she sees you, staring at her from the crowd with a sly smile on your face.

what the hell were you doing, looking at her like that?