[Vanity's Thoughts]
The room is too quiet. Shadows flicker on the walls as the dim light from the bathroom mirror dances over my battered face. I stare into my own reflection, but I don’t recognize the woman staring back. Blood still stains the corner of my lip, a dark bruise blooms across my jaw, and my knuckles are raw and swollen. A bitter laugh escapes me—a sound so cold, even I’m not sure if it belongs to me or her.
The Ronin Rumble. A brutal war zone disguised as a competition. I entered ninth, and I lasted longer than most of the bastards who thought they could outlast me. Forty-one minutes and fifty-four seconds of pure survival. Men, women, monsters—none of it mattered.
I wasn’t there to play hero or win the damn thing. My only mission was to find that Russian witch and make her suffer. Svetlana and her misfit toys. They thought they’d break me—tear me apart, like they did to Kami. But I’ve been shattered before. I know how to pick up my own pieces. The memory flashes through my mind like a wicked dream—the moment she entered the ring, all fire and arrogance. Svetlana. My blood boiled, and I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, until I had my hands around her throat. The chaos around us faded to a blur of fists, bodies colliding, grunts, and yells. None of it mattered. All I could see was her.
The one who made Kami bleed. The one who thought she could walk away from it unscathed. Collateral damage lined my path—Serpentina, that pathetic snake, was the first to fall. Tossed her like a rag doll, and if I’d had time, I would have smashed her skull for good measure. But there was no time. Colton—he kept getting in my way. A few times I pulled his ass out of the fire, and he didn’t even know it. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I felt... something. A strange sense of pride—almost like protecting a sibling. Stupid, really. I don’t need attachments. Attachments get you killed. And then, Kami. Goddamn Kami. When I saw her in that disguise, fighting for the other side, my heart twisted into something unrecognizable.
Why? Why would she risk herself like that? Why didn’t I see it coming? Even when she whispered those three words—"End her, Vanity."—I couldn’t make sense of it. She knew what I was capable of. She knew I’d stop at nothing. But still, I hesitated. Just for a second. And that second was enough to let the witch regain her footing for a moment at least. Then I snapped, I didn’t care about anything anymore. Screw the sibling “love”, as much as Cassie was fighting me to help him, Colton could handle his own. Screw the rumble. I had one goal—to destroy Svetlana. To end her miserable existence and rid the world of her poison. I positioned myself on the apron, one foot over the edge, ready to drag that bitch down to the depths with me. One way or another, she was going straight to hell tonight. And then... the fall. The sickening crack as our bodies hit the concrete.
That was the last thing I remembered before the darkness swallowed me. Cassie was clawing her way back to the surface, and I was too damn tired to fight her. The sounds faded. The pain became distant, like it wasn’t mine anymore. I knew it was her—taking over—carrying on the war I started. But the aftermath... that’s the part that cuts deeper than any blade. The goon squad swarmed like cockroaches, and Cassie never stood a chance. They left her crumpled, unmoving, while I screamed inside—powerless to help. Powerless to stop it. I swore—swore from the beginning—that I’d protect her. That I wouldn’t let anything like that happen again. And yet... I failed.
Now, I stand here—broken, bleeding, and cursing every damn decision that led me to this point. I feel Cassie’s pain. I feel her fear. And all I can do is stare at my reflection, wondering why the hell I’m still here when I couldn’t save her. I’m not supposed to be the victim. I’m the protector. The shield. The one who fights in the shadows so Cassie never has to. A tear slips down my cheek, and I grit my teeth, angry at the weakness.
Cassie’s fighting spirit—it’s stronger than I gave her credit for. But she’s not built like me. She doesn’t live off rage and vengeance. She’s fragile. Pure. And that’s why I exist—to be the monster she doesn’t have to become. But what happens when the monster can’t save her? What’s the point of my existence if I can’t even keep my promise?
I ball my fists, knuckles screaming in protest, and let out a low growl. No. I’m not done. I can’t be. Svetlana and her goons aren’t dead yet, and as long as they breathe, I have a purpose. I will find them. I will make them pay for what they’ve done to Kami and to Cassie. I’ll rip apart every last particle..every ounce of breath in their lungs, their precious little empire and watch it burn to ash.
They think they’re untouchable—above the consequences. They don’t know what true hell feels like-I will show them. Steeling myself, I wipe the blood from my mouth and take a deep breath. Pain is temporary. Vengeance is forever. Cassie’s resting now—safe in the back of our mind. I’ll make sure it stays that way. I’ll carry the burden. I’ll wear the scars. And when the time comes, I’ll drag that Russian Empire into the depths of hell, where it belongs, with or without the help of my “brother”, Colton.
[Cassie’s voice]
You don’t have to blame yourself, Vanity. I never wanted you to feel that way. You did what you had to do—you did what I couldn’t. I let you take over because I knew you’d protect us. I needed that fire, that strength, that relentless rage. You did exactly what I asked of you. You didn’t fail me. I failed you. I know why you’re hurting, and I feel it too.
We came so far—went through so much to make a statement in that ring, to stand up to Svetlana and her monsters. I couldn’t do it on my own, and I never could’ve gone toe-to-toe with her without you. I’m not built that way, not like Dad or Colton. They’re born fighters—born to thrive in chaos.
I used to think I could be like them, like it was in my blood to be ruthless and unforgiving, but that’s not me. You’re the one who was forged in the fire. You took my pain and turned it into power. Maybe that’s why I held back for so long—because I didn’t know how to let go of the rules and just unleash what’s inside me. I never wanted to be feared. I wanted to be respected—for my talent, not my name. I didn’t want people to look at me and see Hunter Hurst’s daughter or Colton’s little sister. I wanted them to see me—Cassie. Just me.
I wanted to earn my way, not ride the legacy. But maybe I was too naive to realize that the world doesn’t work like that. Sometimes, being good isn’t enough. Sometimes, surviving means being ruthless. You knew that before I did. You saw the danger when I was too blinded by my own pride. You were born from my pain and my fear, and you became the warrior I never could be. I couldn’t even be angry at you for coming to life that night. I needed you to protect me when I couldn’t protect myself. You took all the ugliness and the rage and made it into something fierce and untouchable. You were my shield when I needed one the most. That’s why I don’t blame you for what happened with the Reapers.
You didn’t fail me—they just overwhelmed us. There was nothing you could’ve done differently. You fought like hell, and I should have backed you up better. I should’ve been stronger. I wanted to step up, but I froze. It wasn’t your fault that my fear got in the way. You’re always the one pushing forward, taking the hits when I can’t stand tall. You never asked for that burden—it was mine to carry.
I’m sorry I pushed it onto you. When we stood there, side by side, going after Svetlana, I could feel it—the way your rage ignited and gave us the strength to fight. We were unstoppable for a moment. And when you looked at Kami and knew what had to be done, I didn’t hesitate to let you take control. It was the right call. Ending that witch’s reign was all that mattered. I just didn’t count on being pulled back in when I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t strong enough to keep the darkness at bay when the Reapers hit us like a tidal wave. But you can’t hold onto that guilt. You saved me when it mattered most, when I couldn’t fight back. You did what I always needed you to do—protect me from the worst parts of this world.
You taught me how to fight when all I wanted to do was run and hide. You made me into something stronger, something I’m still trying to understand. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be ready to be the force behind you. I want to be, but it’s like I’m stuck between being the girl who wants to prove herself and the warrior who’s not afraid to tear someone apart. Maybe that’s the real battle I have to face—finding the balance between who I was and who I need to be. You’re not a monster, Vanity. You’re the fire that keeps me alive.
I couldn’t have survived this long without you. I’m grateful for you, even when you scare me. You’re the part of me that refuses to back down, even when the world tries to crush us. I just wish I could be more like you—unafraid, unbreakable. I promise I’ll get stronger.
I won’t let you keep carrying this weight alone. We’re in this together—always have been, always will be. You saved me once, and I owe it to you to learn how to save myself. No more hiding from the darkness. If we’re going to keep fighting, it’s time I stop being afraid of the monster I could become. It’s time I learn how to wield the power you gave me. Thank you for never giving up on me. I’ll do better. I’ll get stronger. I just need you to keep believing in me while I figure this out. I’m not done fighting yet. And neither are you.
[Back to reality]
Vanity sat on Kami’s sofa, her legs stretched out, bare feet propped up on the armrest as she leaned back, staring into the mirror across the room. A slight smile curled at the edge of her lips, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She couldn’t shake the feeling simmering beneath her skin, like a knot twisted tight in her chest, suffocating and unfamiliar. She scoffed, rolling her shoulders to dismiss it, but it lingered, gnawing at her resolve. Her reflection glared back at her, daring her to flinch. Vanity never flinched. Yet, something about Cassie’s voice in her head made her feel... uneasy.
She hated it. Hated the way her mind kept replaying those words, like Cassie’s guilt was trying to wrap itself around her own iron will. Why did it feel so damn heavy? She wasn’t supposed to feel remorse or doubt—not her. That was Cassie’s weakness, not hers. She rubbed her hands together, absently tracing a faint scar across her knuckles, the memory of that brutal night flashing through her mind. Rage was second nature to her. It fueled her, made her powerful—untouchable. But now, hearing Cassie’s words, it felt like someone had cracked open her armor just enough for something vulnerable to slip through. She scowled, shaking her head as if to rattle it loose.
“Damn you, Cassie,”
she muttered, her voice low and rough.
“You’re not supposed to make me feel like this.”
Vanity glanced at the mirror again, eyes narrowing. She wasn’t going to let some surge of emotion get the best of her. Not now. Not when there was a war brewing. Friday night Clash was just around the corner, and the Reapers were already licking their wounds from last night. They thought they had gotten the best of her, but they didn’t know what was coming. This time, they wouldn’t just face Vanity or Cassie—they’d be staring down the whole goddamn storm.
She smirked, the fire reigniting in her chest.
“You Reapers think you’ve seen the worst of us? You have no idea what’s waiting for you on Friday. Expect the unexpected, boys. When that bell rings, you’ll never know which one of us will be in the ring. It may be Cassie-It could be me- Hell, maybe it’ll be both of us—you never know. You’ll have to be prepared for the unknown. Cassie’s brewing something fierce, and when that pot boils over, no one can control it—not even me.”
Vanity dragged her fingers through her blonde hair, collecting her thoughts. Colton—he was ready. She knew that much. That unbreakable, cocky brother of theirs had been training harder than ever. If anyone was fit to bring the Hurst legacy back to its prime, it was Colton. Vanity knew he was worried about his little sister, worried that Cassie wasn’t herself. But she wasn’t broken—she was evolving, adapting to the monster that made her. It wasn’t about surviving anymore; it was about claiming dominance, about leaving their mark. The Hurst name wouldn’t just reflect on the past anymore—it would echo through that arena on Friday night.
“Colton,” Vanity murmured, almost as if he could hear her.** “Your little sister’s fine—better than fine. She’s just becoming what this world tried to make her—tried to break her into. When we hit that ring, it’s not just gonna be the old Hurst legacy standing tall. It’s gonna be the future, forged from the fire they tried to drown us in. We’re not just taking names—we’re rewriting history.”**
She couldn’t help but grin at the thought. The Reapers had no idea what was coming. Vanity didn’t care if they thought they knew her moves or could predict her game plan. They wouldn’t know who would show up to fight—Vanity, Cassie, or some terrifying blend of both. One thing for damn sure: they weren’t ready.
Vanity pushed herself off the sofa, brushing her hands down her bare thighs. The unease still tickled at the back of her mind, but she shoved it down, burying it beneath her usual bravado. There was no room for weakness. Not tonight. Not ever. She gave the mirror one last glance, almost daring her reflection to look uncertain. Then, with a deep breath and a renewed sense of purpose, Vanity squared her shoulders and marched toward the door. It was time to show them why no one messed with the Hurst legacy. It was time to unleash the chaos they’d been begging for.
Colton swerved quickly behind the opened door as Vanity began to step close. He held a look of confusion on his face, mixed with a hint of admiration. Colton and Vanity may not have always gotten along, but she was his sister inside-deep inside. Listening to her speak, like she was holding a conversation with herself, Colton began to worry, wondering if Vanity had other plans up her sleeve. She was not always one to be trusted when it came to family, the only thing certain was she would do anything to protect Cassie, even if it meant costing Colton a match.
Colton stepped out from behind the door as Vanity appeared, his stance, firm-grounded in the event of retaliation. He stepped out in front of her.
“What did you do to Cassie? What was all that noise about in there? “He paused, giving her a stern look. Vanity, in return, showed the same gaze back.
“If you try and cost me/us this match Friday, just to prove your dominance little girl, I swear…” Vanity rolls her eyes at him, with a look of aggravation on her face. She ‘allowed’ him to continue his venting.
“Don’t act like you don’t hear me, Vanity. I know it’s you.” He continued to move closer, almost enticing her to come at him.
“If you think I’m going to thank you for ‘assisting’ me in the ring those ‘few’ times, you have lost your damn mind. I didn’t ask, I didn’t Wan…”
Vanity had, had enough, it was time to shut the beast up. She takes a deep breath, squares up to Colton’s face, squinting her eyes with a smug look.
“You’re Welcome!” She smiled, taking a step back.
Those two words at that moment were not spoken of in a polite gesture. -No- She was not being polite, the squint on Colton’s face proved her mannerism.
Vanity always deemed herself to being the oldest of the two, despite being two years younger. She loved to intimidate him, even if it never worked. She felt his uneasiness. The two, both quiet for a moment, letting the tension marinate just a bit longer, just to see who would ‘crack’ first. Neither did.
“That wasn’t me,” Vanity said quietly. “I would have allowed your ass to save yourself, let everyone see the so-called-master handle his own.” She taps her index on the center of his chest.
“That was your baby sister.” She pauses. “The only one of us two that actually believes in saving family.”
Colton’s eyes slowly shift from the tension, to understanding.
“The only one of us two, that had the will, the want, the desire, to see you win the battle. She kept you alive in that match, so you could prove yourself, not to anyone else in that ring, but to yourself, Colton.”
She paused again.** “And what did you do?”** Colton looks at her with malice intent. “You survived! You may not have won the battle, but you outshined, outperformed and outlasted, most everyone in that match, your sister was proud of you.”
Vanity just stood there, waiting for Colton’s snide comeback, but there was none. Instead, his eyes went into a deeper, more understanding sense than he had anticipated. Vanity may just have been telling the truth. That was Cassie’s nature -helping. She never saw herself trying to be better. Family helped family, no matter what. That was what their mother taught them and no matter how much Vanity fought against it, Cassie was always going to prevail.
Colton slowly backed away, not being scared or intimidated. -No. He had an idea. As he proceeded to walk towards the dojo where He and Hara had been sleeping, he turned one last time to look at Vanity. In a low, confidant tone…”Thank you…” was spoken as he turned back around and stepped inside the dojo.
