To Ashes And Blood

The Underground Ring

Damien glanced around the rundown restaurant Rias had finally settled into. The place had evidence that it had survived three wars.

Maybe four, in fact.

One flickering light hung above them, buzzing every few seconds like it was about to finally give up.

The tables and chairs that didn't match were scratched.

The walls had stains that Damien was almost certain were older than him.

Yet somewhere behind the counter, something was sizzling loudly enough to make him question whether they were actually cooking food or forging something.

Damien stared at the plate in front of him.

"Is this..." He shifted the plate with his finger. "...edible?"

Opposite him, Rias was already eating.

"Probably."

"Probably?"

Rias shrugged and made an expression with his face that said he was also unsure.

"See, if you don't ask questions, the food tastes better."

Damien looked down at the plate again.

"You brought me here."

"Yeah?"

"Why?"

"Because you're angry."

Damien looked at him.

"I'm not angry."

Rias paused with food in his mouth before slowly pointing his fork at Damien.

"Your eye has been twitching for twenty minutes."

Damien touched the corner of his eye.

Rias grinned.

"See?"

Damien sighed.

For the first time since leaving the arena, his shoulders finally dropped.

Rias leaned back as he chewed while talking.

"You know, back when I was fighting..."

Damien looked up.

"Arghh, s**t. Here we go again."

Rias smiled.

"You laughed now."

"I haven't laughed."

"Oh, I see it coming."

Rias pointed his fork toward himself.

"I was a beast...maybe I still am."

Damien raised an eyebrow.

"You?"

"Yes. Me."

"You look like a man who loses arguments to vending machines."

Rias stared at him.

Then slowly lowered his fork.

"That was personal."

Damien smirked.

Rias continued anyway.

"I used to walk into that arena, and even affiliates of those I was in the ring with would start betting against them."

"That makes no sense."

"It does when you're good enough."

"How good?"

Rias leaned closer.

"I'm the only man, as far as I know, that has thirty-seven fights in that arena."

Damien's eyebrows lifted.

"Thirty-seven?"

"Thirty-seven."

"How many did you win?"

Rias smiled proudly.

"Thirty-six."

Damien waited.

"And the last one?"

Rias took another bite.

"It never happened."

Damien stared at him.

"What?"

Rias shrugged.

"Let's save that story for another day. It's better if you see it yourself."

Damien shook his head.

"You're full of shit."

"Probably."

A small moment of silence stretched between them.

Then Damien laughed.

It came out unexpectedly, in a small, reluctant manner.

Rias immediately pointed at him.

"There!"

Damien's smile disappeared.

"What?"

"I knew it."

"You knew what?"

"You can laugh."

Damien rolled his eyes.

"Don't get excited."

"Too late."

Rias laughed.

And somehow...Damien joined him in laughing.

For the first time that night, Damien wasn't thinking about the cancelled fight or the Devil. The academy never crossed his mind.

All he knew at that moment was that he was sitting in a terrible restaurant with a strange man telling ridiculous stories.

And for a few minutes, that was more than enough.

Rias eventually leaned back in his chair.

He reached into his pockets as he searched for something.

Damien stopped laughing and looked at him.

"What are you doing?"

"I think I lost it...oh, there it is."

Rias pulled out a small object.

An old coin whose edges were completely smooth.

Then he reached into his other pocket.

He pulled out a miniature boxing glove. The leather had faded, and the stitching was uneven.

Damien's expression changed.

"Those are from your glory days too?"

Rias looked down at the objects.

His smile softened.

"Ohhh, these are not."

He placed the coin on the table.

Then the little glove beside it.

"These are from people I lost that I hadn't even had yet."

Damien's eyes narrowed.

"What does that..."

Someone walked past their table.

Damien stopped as he looked at them.

It was a woman.

She wore leather fighting pants and a simple bra top, which exposed the gun and skull tattoo just above her cleavage.

As his gaze settled fully on her, he noticed tattoos that went all the way from her arms, across her shoulders, and up the side of her neck, ending just beneath the edge of her air-filtration device.

Her stride carried the confidence of someone who didn't care who was watching.

Damien's eyes followed her.

Rias noticed.

He slowly turned toward Damien, then looked back at the woman, and finally looked back at Damien.

A grin spread across his face.

"Wait..."

Damien immediately looked away.

Rias's grin became enormous.

"...you're still a virgin?"

Damien's face hardened.

"No."

Rias stared at him.

Damien said nothing.

Rias leaned closer.

"That sounded like a yes."

"Shut up...what does it matter?"

Rias burst out laughing loudly.

Several people in the restaurant looked over.

Damien covered his face with one hand.

"I can't go anywhere with you ever again."

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you...virgin."

Rias stood and grabbed Damien by the shoulder.

"Come along."

"Where?"

Rias started dragging him toward the back door.

"You see that one?"

Damien glanced back.

"She's not a whore."

"I didn't say she was."

"Well, good for you."

Rias grinned.

"She's a fighter."

Damien looked at him.

Rias winked.

"You might just get lucky."

Damien groaned.

"Where the hell are you taking me?"

Rias pushed open the back door of the restaurant.

As he walked through it, he stopped in front of a lady.

"Ahh, la bruja."

He kissed the lady as he slipped three embers into her back pocket.

The lady cackled as she shut the door behind them.

"Come, you need to see this, Damien."

They stepped back into the streets and through a few narrow alleys under flickering signs.

Damien eventually noticed something.

The further they walked, the less familiar the streets became.

He thought to himself, “I've never been here.”

Then he stopped and looked around.

"Wait."

Rias continued walking, and Damien hurried to catch up.

"This is east of Eastern Sector."

"Yep."

Damien looked back.

The underground fighting pits were way behind them now, and only the rundown restaurant stood between them and the majority of Eastern Sector.

He looked toward the massive structures ahead.

The streets here were different.

It was louder at this early hour of the morning than the other streets.

Everywhere you looked, a group was gathered. People shouted over loud music, and bookmakers shouted out numbers.

Fighters walked through the streets, some surrounded by bodyguards.

Damien stopped.

"What is this?"

Rias finally turned. He spread his arms as he grinned.

"Welcome..."

He gestured toward the loud gathering ahead.

"...to the Underground Ring."

Damien stared.

This wasn't an arena.

It was a city hidden from the city.

A world that existed outside everything Damien knew.

Rias pointed.

"There she is..."

His eyes scanned quickly through the crowd.

Then he chuckled.

"Your Scarlett beauty."

Damien followed his gaze.

There she stood.

The tattooed fighter from the restaurant.

She was surrounded by people, but somehow she stood out from all of them.

Damien's eyes lingered. His gaze followed the tattoos stemming from beneath her leather pants up to her V-line and her perfect abs.

He shifted his gaze to the phoenix tattoo just below her ear.

As his gaze shifted to her legs, Rias looked at him and smiled.

The woman suddenly turned her head.

Their eyes met.

For a split second, neither of them moved.

Then she squinted her eyes, and Damien's expression went blank.

Rias whispered beside him.

"Well..."

A grin spread across his face.

"...this should be interesting."