One hour earlier

The harsh sound of the fighting bell echoes over the crowd as I hold up a single finger.

One more.

"Final fight!" The mediator yells in excitement, pounding his fists into the small table in front of him. His voice isn't pleasant, but it's certainly loud. People turn their heads to look almost immediately.

"Come try your luck against Shadowdancer!"

I wipe the blood covering my vision. None of the scarlet spattering my face and fists is mine. I watch as men take away the last challenger I'd beaten down to the ground, dragging his unconscious body off the ring like a sack of potatoes.

Then I see a hand shoot up, amongst the crowd of dark, hooded heads.

The mediator screams into his mic.

"Come on up!"

A roar floods the crowd. And I stand back, my heart still racing from the adrenaline of the fight before as I watch the final challenger.

He looks young. Too young to be out here, especially in a place like the Ring of the Underground. He's fidgeting side to side, large eyes flickering anywhere except for my face.

Scared.

Just from that look and the thick jacket he has on, I can already tell.

He's got a knife. And someone has forced him to face me.

For money.

Dirt cakes his hands, and he looks weak. His cheeks are too hollow from hunger, for the age he must be. But the glower in his eyes is for someone else.

Perhaps his younger sibling, who might be starving on the streets. Or a sick mother with no money for a hospital visit. It could be anyone.

A smile tints my lips as I stare at him.

Brave one.

The mediator hoots behind me, his voice echoing excitedly into the mic.

"A young boy! Let's see how Shadowdancer will rip him apart like fresh meat tonight, shall we?"

A roar thunders the crowd as the boy leaps, surprisingly agile for how malnourished he must be. Out comes the knife, and I easily step to the side. His knife cuts against the metal fence where I'd been standing against.

Even before the man had counted to three, for the fight to start.

I whisper lowly.

"Hungry for me, aren't you?"

The boy whips around, and his wide eyes fix a wild stare in my direction underneath long, messy dark hair. His gaze is full of hatred.

"Shut up." He yells, and I can see the bloodlust rising in his eyes.

"Shut up!"

He lunges again. And I sigh, sweeping a foot under him. I drive my fist into his stomach, pulling back on the force just before it hits. The boy doubles over instinctively, his eyes widening when he realizes I hadn't hit him at all.

But it certainly looks like I had on the outside.

The crowd screams. They're screaming for blood, and it was either going to be me or him. It had to be one of us, to shed it tonight.

He gasps.

"You're playing with me."

"I'm not playing with you." I whisper quickly. "What's the bet, child? My neck for a thousand?"

"A single cut." The boy whimpers, and I see him slowly break. The bloodlust in his eyes melt away like snow in summer. "For fifty thousand."

Fifty thousand.

He looks terrified out of his mind.

How could he not? The roar of the crowd is deafening— the lights blinding. The blood spattered on the floor of the ring is too clear.

"How old are you?"

"...thirteen."

I breathe. And I see Aeri, in him. The thirteen year old Aeri, the one who had chosen to go to men and sell herself for money. The one who had been forced to fight for her life.

"Cut me. I'll let you."

He freezes up in shock. And I see the tears welling in his young eyes, but there is no time. The moment the fight gets loose, the crowd will suspect.

He will have to do this.

I throw him to the floor. He's shivering— whimpering. Now he's crying, and I can see the tears flowing down his cheeks.

Break him. Break the boy.

That's what the crowd yells.

My lips purse as I look at his shaking form. But I can't drag anything on, and I swiftly reach downwards, my fingers wrapping around his neck. The knife in his hands glint a soft silver.

I have to make him.

My fingers tighten around his neck— hard enough for him to begin suffocating. He will die if he doesn't do this. Now is not the time to be soft.

"I will kill you if you cannot do it."

He starts choking. But I tighten my grip even further, eyes cold and my fingertips pale as I stare down at his struggling figure. Any moment. I brace for the pain.

Then it comes.

And it still hurts like a bitch, even if I expect it.

________________________________

Poison.

So this is why they had told the boy that all he would need is a single cut.

Sweat pours down my skin as I pull out my Pass, my face covered completely with a hood over my head. I scan it against the reader, and the door to the Skygrounds open. The guard steps to the side as I walk past.

Every step sends fire burning down my body. He had slashed me in the side, and I press my hand harder into the wound. The blood has already soaked my jacket, and I can feel it seeping into my palm.

It hurts.

My vision dips in and out of the haze. There's a bitter taste in my mouth, and I can slowly feel myself get slower— heavier.

What kind of poison...

I should've realized faster.

But now it's way too late, and I gasp, coming to a stop on the pavement. The night is still dark, and no one is out here to help me. The place where I stayed with Jimin and Jungkook was still at least a block away.

Jimin's bar. Where he worked as a bartender at night.

My eyes haze further.

But it's too far.

I can't walk.

I don't even realize it, when I collapse. One second I'm standing, and the next I can feel the rough, cold ground against my cheek.

I can't...

Is this really how I die?

A weak breath leaves my lips.

But Aeri. There were so many things I still had left to do for her. I—

"V?"

There's the sound of footsteps. All I can feel is the heat of my gasps and the warmth of the blood, until cool hands lift my face from the ground.

My unfocused eyes meet Aeri.

She's staring at me, her eyes wide. And I can only stare back at her, until a stupid smile pulls my stiff lips upwards. Pure happiness replaces the panic I'd felt.

How is she here.

I can't believe my eyes.

"Aeri."

She's silent, hands around my cheek. I lean into her touch, soft and comforting against my dying body. Her eyes are still wide.

"I messed up." I murmur, smiling weakly at her. "I'm sorry I— he just reminded me so much of you. And I couldn't..."

It's getting harder to keep my eyes open.

Then I hear the sounds of footsteps. And my eyes fly open— I hadn't realized she had taken her hands off me. The blood flowing out of my side grows heavier. My vision fades.

I see the back of her silhouette, walking away.

It feels like someone has struck me across the face.

No.

My breaths slow. And my head falls backwards, touching the cold ground.

What had I expected? For her to touch me and tell me everything would be fine?

What an idiot.

This is what I deserved. How could I have ever forgotten that.

But the pain in my heart is somehow worse than the burning in my side. It burns, hotter. Even as I tell myself it's obvious. She had wanted me gone, after all.

It's what I deserve.

My eyes flicker close.