suns and oceans | {rave}

b e n n y

One down. Naturally.

He smiled at the tiny purple badge that was fastened to the inside of his coat pocket. All he could think about was how livid Red would be when he found out. One down. Seven to go.

He walked through the doors of another Training Center, rich man's shoes squeaking against a buffed floor. This place was nice— it wasn't anything like his Grandpa's, but it was nice. Reception area and announcer boxes hanging above the training floors; this was the kind of Center that bred competition.

The woman sitting behind the counter was pretty, maybe just too old for reaping eligibility. He bet she used to train here herself, chickened out at the last second and took a job at the one place she'd always felt accepted in. Pitiful, in the truest sense of the word.

"Scuse me," he said, leaning against the counter on his arms, "I'm here for the Master's Program. Gonna be the first Champ of District Four someday soon." Clearly, she did not care, but he was unbothered by it. Probably just jealous she was too old to compete nowadays. Hmph.

She offered him a strained smile, pretty teeth, big nose. Damn. Was that mean? Gramps was always saying he was too judgmental.

"Benny Braun?" she asked after combing through some records.

"Blu, thanks." God, he was gonna have to kill the old man for writing in his actual name on the competitive forms. Blu. His god damn name was Blu. Benny was a stupid name, so was Bexler.

That's why they were Blu and Bex. Duh, Gramps.

"Right this way, Blu." She said his name like she was going to say something else, like jackass, or moron, but switched it out for Blu at the last second. He didn't like her, he decided.

Still, she led him to the competition floor. A few people sparred in the far corner, but there was a large, open area where people were already crowding around the sidelines. He grinned with vanity, fingertips itching for the sword hanging by his back.

They've been expecting me, he thought.

The woman clicked over to a sullen-looking lady with an equally ugly nose— was that a requirement to get in here, or were they related? She looked old enough to be a mother. Dumb ass still wore workout clothes like her job of barking orders at other people was such a physically demanding thing to do. The two exchanged some words, and the woman cleared her throat.

Everyone who had been watching Blu before was now focused on her.

"Challengers," she said, eyeing a clipboard, "Based on your recent performance, we've decided that today's competitor will be, uh," she waited a moment, counting up numbers in her head, he guessed.

She had pretty teeth, too. They were definitely related.

"Amarillo."

A small, mousy looking girl stood up from the crowd and he had to stop himself from laughing.

They were joking, right? No?

O-fucking-kay, he thought, let's get it.

"Blu," he said, ducking through the ropes and nodding to her.

"Sorry in advance."