Duplication of Being (Days Union x Reader)

[Antagonistic Sparring]

A/N: Warning for some violence? Fighting? And y'know just some normal totally wholesome beating-each-other-up stuff in this chap
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You've been training with the operatives for a few days and despite being a slow learner, you are steadily improving. Little by little.

Not as quickly as you want to though. Despite how much Radiant and Benevolent hyped you up and praise you, your self confidence wanes at the clear doubt on Unstable's face.

Last time you were sparring with Unstable, both of you had no weapons. The fight was fairly quick despite it. You had your shoulder pinned to the ground, on your stomach as Unstable hovered over you.

He didn't say anything, he didn't insult or berate you. But the way his eyebrows sinked down on his face with his eyes relaxed and bored, like this was as easy as breathing to him when one round exhausts you endlessly, said everything.

You knew they were leagues above you of course. You didn't come with the expectation that it would be in any word easy. But that doesn't stop you from being insecure like crazy over it.

You were fighting Scary this time. Honestly you weren't stupid enough to have any hope of beating him. You were just ready to get thrown to the floor like a rag doll before the operative would try to convince you with excruciating gentleness that you were getting better.

As you approached the building which held the training room inside you noticed there was no one waiting for you at the door.

Usually when you arrived you would find a spaced out looking operative to welcome you in.

You shrug as you enter the building, if he was running late then you would wait for him inside.

However as soon as you open the door and take a step in, a leg pushes between your feet making you stumble to the floor.

Oh right, or course. You should have expected this.

See when you read that apology letter from him you may have had to blink, re-blink and read over it again because. Scary? Apologising? To a random civilian?

You'd have a higher chance of spotting a unicorn. Or finding a McDonald's with a working soft serve.

Scary apologising is mythological. Or was apparently.

There must be something he wants from you.

"You don't seem to have a good track record of staying on your feet, hon"

Your ears have the misfortune of hearing that gravely and scratchy voice. The offending nickname makes you want to scratch him up and tear his already zombie like appearance.

You tuck your hand under your chest and flip off the floor, mumbling silent curses. Your cheek still hurts from meeting the floor.

He kicks you in the shin when you don't get up fast enough. "If you haven't already got the memo I don't care how much you whine and cry, we're not getting out of here until one of us is either bleeding out or knocked out. By how things going, you might have to learn how to block or dodge because you are not gonna manage to hit me once. Now get up, I'm sure the floor doesn't taste that good."

You stand up glaring at him, before barely managing to scurry away from the super-human speed of his fist trying to make contact with your nose.

"W-wait, we're - we're just going to start now?!" You multitask from dodging to nearly running away. The display is pathetic and even you know it, blocking would be more pride-saving but you doubt that blocking his attacks are going to soften the pain any less.

"Your ears broken or something? You're not getting any training wheels or hand holding honey, the only thing you'll learn from me is instinct and faster reflexes."

You finally jab a fist forward, stiffly and not at all how you practiced with Radiant and Benevolent. You miss, and in return you get sucker punched in the stomach. You fucking swear your soul leaves your body as you wheeze around the pain.

He has no mercy, your body is aching after 15 minutes of him swinging at you and you trying to swing away.

He manages to pin you to the floor, he isn't even punching you anymore. This is quickly ending with you trying to shove him off or weakly punching his chest.

"God sweetheart, this is just fucking pathetic. I'm getting second hand embarrassment from this."
You press one palm to his chest and another on the ground, pushing both to try to get him off and also to get up.

"I'm not sure why the Supreme Leader even wants you on the team, honestly." He sneers down at you. "You can't do shit. Can't get a job, who knows where the fuck your family is? Honestly y/n, you're goddamn useless."

You glower at him, rage fueling your body, red coloring the vignette of your vision at the word. You don't notice how you manage to crack the floor underneath your palm.

All the insecurity and self disappointment channels into strength, feeding some - some part of you that's screaming and clawing and-

You strike for his jaw, feeling the subtle shift of bone. The sadistic satisfaction overwhelming the ache in your knuckles.

His smug grin falters all but for one second before he turns back to you with a manic crazed expression, dry chapped lips bleeding.

"Fucking finally, tiger."

You fist his shirt and throw him down, hard, switching your positions. "You allergic to chap stick or something? I can feel the moisture from my lips drying up like the Sahara dessert from looking at them."

He shrugs, sagely. "Why? You looking to feel them too or somethin'?" You flush and he takes this to throw you aside.

He must have been holding back on you before because now he isn't holding back anything. He swings and shoves and throws you around.

You aren't holding back either, you want to have your share of his pain too. You roll up your sleeves revealing your deadly weapons. You jab your sharp elbows into his stomach and smile as he wheezes.

"Happy to return the favor." You quip before kicking him in the face while you have the chance.

You go for another kick, but he quickly wraps his hand around your ankle before pulling and making you slip. Your back says hello to the ground. Your body is trembling with pain and adrenaline.

"I don't think falling that much could be healthy, sweetheart."

You scream, frustratingly. "You- fucking - wouldn't know healthy if it sat in your lap!" You spit out as your vision tries to adjust to the fast movement.

"Hmm sure. But I can think of something else that could sit in my lap."

Your breath hitches, stunned. You don't notice the fist blocking your vision before your brain make a windows shut down noise.

It's a knockout.
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Sorry to everyone who was hoping for sweet wholesome Scary
I hope you don't mind a little enemies to lovers ^^