The two of us bumped fists and got into position.

DING!

The bell went off, and without hesitation, Lyra closed the gap with a sweep. 

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Predictable. I hopped over, jabbing after I landed. My fist met her head, knocking her back a step. She followed with a flurry of jabs mixed with kicks, but all her attacks felt... familiar.

Every single attempt she made, I countered and threw her back, slowly getting her to the wall of the cage. Her eyes widened, almost in fear. She jumped onto the cage wall, springing off and wrapping her arms around me, throwing me to the ground. From there, she straddled my arms under her legs and beat the snot out of my face.

This time, her attacks were different. Unfamiliar, like my other fights.

But I wasn't done yet. She threw her fist in my face, but instead of taking it, I jerked my head to the side, her fist landing into the rubber floor. From there, I turned back around, biting her arm. I may not be a Manbeast, but you don't need fangs to bite hard. She screamed, jumping off me and covering her bloodied forearm. It didn't take me long to get up and cover our distance again. A clean hook punch connected to her temple, and I could tell by the dazed look in her eyes that she was almost out. One more clean punch and she'd collapse. She refocused herself and lunged forward with a kick. This one was slow.

I grabbed her leg, throwing her to the side. She fell into the cage, grabbing it for support. Adrenaline coursed through me. I'd finally win a fight. I looked up at the monitor.

HOLY SHIT.

People were actually betting rupees on me. I turned back to Lyra, her mask now at her neck. She had a pretty face. No doubt if she walked around without covering herself up, she be kidnapped for the sex market, or taken in as some rich man's concubine. Poor girl. Now everyone can see her, and she's probably not as safe in this area as she was before.

She glared at me, one hand still bracing herself on the cage wall.

"Well? Scared to hit a pretty girl?"

I laughed, inching closer. "Tell me. Why would a pretty girl be out here fighting for scraps? You could be living a nice, cozy life in the Upper Regions with a fat, old geezer as a husband."

"Fuck off," she scowled, stabilizing herself. I could tell she was weak, probably concussed. I wouldn't even need to try. One punch to her gut and she'd be out like a light. 

But something felt wrong. I felt bad. She was a rookie, just like me. Unlike me, however, she probably grew up with creeps all over her, trying to use or sell her off. She must've been around my age too.

I sighed, closing the distance and slamming my fist into her nose. She crumbled like wet sand, laying on the floor, unmoving. Her chest eased up and down. Slow breaths.

At least I didn't kill her.

The crowd erupted into cheers. For months now, the fighter known as the Runt finally won his first fight. But at what cost?

People came onto the mat with a stretcher, throwing Lyra on, and taking her outside. No doubt they'd throw her onto the street, same as they'd done with me a few days ago. 

I came down from the ring, walking to Matilda's register. She gave me a look of melancholic pride. "Nice job, kiddo," she half-smiled, handing me a bag of copper and silver rupees. This should be enough food for weeks.

"Do me a favour," she added. "Get big and strong, alright? That way your kid brother won't have to do the dirty work anymore."

I looked down into the bag. "Yeah."

We shook hands, and I went back to the entrance, where I found Riven looking up at me, a newfound awe in his eyes.

"ASH! YOU WON!" he screamed. 

"Yeah, I did! Now we have plenty of food." I picked him up and gave him a hug.

There was an unwritten rule in the Graveyard. Never touch a fighter's winnings. Anytime money is kept in a bag with the axed boar seal, it shouldn't be touched. If a fighter reports missing money, and gives a description of the thief, you can bet the thief would be found and "relocated" within the hour. 

At least that much insurance was given. 

On our way out, we ran into the same guard. He saw our winnings, gave me a smile, and let me out. Even if it's a dog-eat-dog world, moments like this remind me that empathy still exists, even if in small amounts.

Speaking of empathy, Riven pointed me to the men carrying Lyra out on a stretcher. Like I predicted, she was dumped on the sidewalk, and the men went back inside through a separate entrance. 

"Too bad she lost," Riven giggled. As adorable as this little guy was, he could be a heartless monster sometimes. I guess this is where the older brother has to teach him a lesson.

"Riven. Go help her up."

He looked back at me, his eyes widened in shock. "What? Are you crazy? She tried to beat the shit out of you. You have a black eye because of her. She would've killed you if-"

"Go help her up." My voice didn't waver. Riven could tell I was being serious, and he couldn't believe it.

His shoulders dropped, and I gave him the bandages around my hands. He took them over to her, bandaged up her bite wound, wrapped her face up, and dragged her over. She was out cold, didn't even make a sound the entire time, but she was still breathing. I didn't hit her hard enough, or anywhere dangerous, to put her life at risk. She'd have a headache for a while, though.

"There. Now what? We sell her to some creep?" He kicked at her ribs gently.

"For fuck's sake, Riven. We're going to help her, and in return, she's going to help us make money in the Pit. If we save her life, she'll owe us. We're not going to sell her off."

My brother was cunning, but by no means was he smart. He could work his way around deep pockets, but common sense? It was practically a foreign language to him. Besides, our little band of two didn't help us much. Unlike me, she could fight. The only reason she lost was because I could read her moves. Otherwise, she'd have clocked me, instead of the other way around.

But why could I read her moves? It was almost obvious what her next attack was. Every jab, every kick, every motion of hers. It was like reading a book. Why?

It didn't take long for the two of us to drag her back to our little home. I propped her up on my cold, metal bed, covering her in a bedsheet. I handed the money to Riven. "Take this and get some good food. Don't splurge it all on bread and cheeses, okay? Get something processed that'll last us a while. Don't spend more than 5 silver rupees either, okay?"

Riven nodded, and pranced out of the room, practically glowing with the bag of money. Was he a little odd? Yeah. Did I care? Hell no. He was there for me when I needed someone, he helped me, and I helped him. I don't remember having a brother, or any family, but Riven was pretty damn close.

Not that I remember anything, anyway. One day I woke up in this very apartment, in the same bed Lyra's sleeping on right now. No memories, no family, not even a name. Matilda was the one who gave me my current name, Ashura. Riven was the one who gave me my nickname, Ash. 

I lay down on the floor next to Lyra and closed my eyes. I needed the rest, and I think I earned it.

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When I woke up, Lyra was already awake. She stood over me with her foot over my head.

"What are you going to do with me?" She asked, her voice muffled behind the bandages.

"Nothing," I groaned. I didn't have the energy to deal with her right now.

"You gonna sell me? Or maybe you'll use me yourself, sicko," her voice shook. I could still take her, despite being exhausted and under her foot. And she knew it.

"I'm not gonna use you."

"HEY!" a shrill voice came from the door. Lyra jumped, putting her foot down next to me, and turned. There, in the doorway, stood Riven with a loaf of bread and some fruits and cheese. I told him not to splurge...

Lyra's eyes darted from Riven to the food in his hands. I slowly sat up, scratching my head. "Relax, we got some for you too."

She looked at me, a confused expression on her face. "What... why?"

I looked up at her, noticing her long, purple hair.

"Cuz. Now you owe us."

I stood up and laid my blanket down on the floor. "Riven, keep the food here and we'll distribute it amongst ourselves."

Riven hesitantly brought the food over, glaring at Lyra. Lyra didn't take her eyes of me, looking between the food in my hands and the knife on my belt.

I used the knife to cut off some bread and cheese, giving it to Riven and Lyra. She took off the bandages around her face and started eating. They made quick work of their shares, and before I could even look at the fruits, they both turned to me, anticipating more. I sighed, looking at Riven. "Where's the rest of the money, bud?"

He handed me the pouch, still nearly full of rupees. Even an expensive shopping spree like this barely made a dent in our earnings. I breathed a sigh of relief. We'll have food for some time, even after bringing Lyra into our little group.

I cut up some more bread and cheese, and looked at the fruits. Purple grapes, green apples, and blue bananas. Standard, nothing great, but better than nothing. Bananas came as good energy, apples were great for overall health, and grapes were sweet and easy to enjoy. 

The cheese was amazing, especially with the grapes. "Hey, Riven. Where'd you get this cheese from?" I asked, my mouth full of dairy goodness.

"A vendor south of Matilda's place. She helped me find some places to get good food."

I nodded. Matilda would never admit it, but she's been a great help to us ever since we got to the Pit. 

"Do you guys know Matilda?" Lyra asked, her voice quiet. 

I nodded. "Yeah, she's helped us out a couple times. We owe her. Right, bud?"

Riven didn't answer me. He focused his icy gaze on Lyra. 

"Riven. Stop staring."

"I don't get it. Why's she here?"

"Because I said so."

"She hurt you."

"And now she can help us."

"Screw that. Let's just sell her while she's weak and make even more money!"

"Shut it, Riven!" I yelled. I rarely raised my voice at him, but he was out of line.

His face contorted, still fixated on Lyra. He stood up and left, clutching his knife in his hand. When did he take that out?

I looked over at Lyra, who was clutching her bread, tears rolling down her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Relax. He's too narrow-minded."

She looked down, almost in shame. "I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you."

"I know. You'll help me down in the Pit, taking easy fights you can win, and we'll work out way up from there."

She took a bite out of her bread, throwing a piece of cheese and a grape in too. "Why?"

"Why, what?"

"Why are you helping me?"

I stopped eating, looking at the half eaten banana in my hand. I took some time to think of answer. Truthfully? I didn't have one off the top of my head.

Finally, I settled on one that resonated with me the most: "A little kid once helped me out when I needed it. He gave me purpose, and helped me fight for something other than myself. If I didn't have him, I'd have lost myself." I looked up at her. "I see that same problem in you. If all you fight for is yourself, you'll lose your purpose in no time. I want to pass on the blessing that Riven gave to me. If I can help give you purpose and stand Riven on his own two feet, I'll be content."

Lyra looked back down. "Thank you." She paused, not eating. "Ash, right?"

I nodded, resuming my meal.

"Tell me something," she said, wiping the tears off her face. "I know my fighting style is unique. It's not easy to counter, especially not the way you did," she half-laughed. "How did you do it?"

I shrugged. "Wish I could tell you, but I have no idea."

"Have you fought someone like me before?"

"Someone like you?"

"Yeah. A Rebel Candidate."

What.