a storm within, and without [UGG v Hunter-gatherer] day 2

KENJI

For better or for worse, you would not be traveling throughout this arena on your own. Far from engaging in conflict with the first person you ran into, you'd not only found a peaceful resolution, but an ally in the process. And as far as potential allies? You could do worse.

The girl was shaken up, that was to be sure, and well, your speciality was bringing conceited fuckers down to this point, not building up people already at that level back to something resembling a normal state of being. Whatever normal was. You sure as hell didn't know.

But from tension came a sort of awkward coexistence. Introductions were made, weapons were found - for her, a sword, and for you, that spicy rock thing - and as you settled down underneath the stars, you didn't notice anything out of the ordinary.

Until-

"Strange," says the other, and you turn to look at her quizzically. "I swear I heard a canon fire..."

Realization clicks within the gears of your head - because yeah, hadn't you heard one as well? Your gaze turned back towards the sky, but no faces filled the nighttime sky.

"Me too," you responded.

Questions upon questions - but you were never one for philosophical thought, and sleep comes all too quickly.



With the rise of the sun came a trek into the unknown. Gems were pretty and all, but they were useless in the grand scheme of things. A more lawless or desperate or even overconfident version of you might have pocketed some for use once you left the arena, but right now you were none of those things. You were simply a boy teamed up with a girl who both just wanted to survive.

Steel mentions keeping your eyes and ears out for a river, and you nod mutely in response. Water was indeed the first thing that you would need to find if survival was going to last more than a couple of days - and years in the fighting ring had taught you the importance of hydration when it came to sweating your brains out. Without water, you'd be reduced to a weak mess in days, and that was assuming you managed to avoid any sort of conflict before then.

You knew how the Games worked. Off days were earned, not given. And to earn them, you had to spill blood.

But, such was the way of your life back in Five, even if you were told to stop before being the life out of whatever privileged fuck came your way. What difference would it make in here, when there was not only no one to stop you, but it was actually encouraged?

The thought made your blood run cold and sent your gaze to your toes. Because no matter what happened, no matter what you were forced to do, you were still a seventeen year old kid.

You're not sure how much time had passed or how many steps you had taken, but eventually the gems underfoot turned into plant matter, and what had been an almost dead take on the air turned to a wind that blew through your hair and chilled your body down nearly to the bone. Arms wrapped around your form in an attempt to warm up further, to little avail.

Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, body heat would soon be the least of your concerns.

Your gaze still focused at your feet, it takes a minute to realize that Steel has stopped and gripped her sword. Confusion fills your mind as she calls out to something - no, someone - off in the distance, and by the time you've put two and two together and realized just what was going on, there's a boy hacking at your ally's leg.

Shock turns to adrenaline in the span of a second as you hastily grip at your newfound weapon - but before you can so much as blink, two more figures strike out at you. One low, one high - and it's only thanks to your reflexes and a little bit of luck that you don't turn into a broken, bleeding mess right then and there.

Hastily, you limp backwards, ignoring the sudden pain in your leg, ignoring the drip of crimson from your head. A smack, a slash - and yet you still stand.

A boy and a girl stand opposite from you. A matched set - the yeehaws from Ten, a fact you're only able to put together because the girl had a sister that not-died some five years ago or something. So far had they fallen under your radar that even with that knowledge flitting through your brain, you find it hard to remember.

But you do. You're slow sometimes, but you're not stupid. Eyes narrowed, knuckles turning white with the grip of your rock thing - this, at least, was familiar.

"What, nothing to say?" you say, glancing from boy to girl and back again. "And here I thought the sayin' was supposed to be silent but deadly. And yet, here I am. Still alive."

Trash talk was perhaps out of your depth both in the arenas back home and this swirling maelstrom of plant matter alike, but that didn't mean you couldn't have some fun with it in the meantime.

But then you remember Steel, see her barely scratch the surface of the boy from Six. You could likely take on both of the Tens at the same time, hold them off long enough for Steel's fate to be decided all on her own.

"You're a dirty street fighter." Patricia's words from the training center echo within your skull. "Fight dirty."

So you do.

"Too bad you fuckers aren't worth my time," you mutter. And they aren't. They can't be, if you're to survive this day.

Instead of retaliating, you ignore them. Turn your back to the enemy. Seen in the fights back home as the ultimate sign of disrespect. Instead, you turn towards Steel's assailant, still focused on the girl instead of you.

Perfect.

With one hand, you wipe the blood away from your eyes.

With the other, you aim to send the boy from Six down to the hell he had spawned from.

NAKAMURA