An Unwanted Reunion (for Killcarrion)

[Underdoggo]

Thwack. Thwack.

The punching bag rotated listlessly as Makie hammered her fists into it again and again. She wasn't exactly the world's best striker, but the next time she went into the ring, she wanted her punches to hurt, dammit. Or at the very least, to stun her opposition enough that she could follow up with something worse. She hopped lightly on her feet, imagining an opponent retaliating at her, and ducking, spinning to avoid an imaginary counter attack that would have laid out a slower girl. Spinning, she rotated on one foot, smacking the other into the bag with a well executed spin kick.

Spoiler

Darting back from her stationary, silently rotating opponent, Makie ran towards the padded walls and leapt forward, pressing her feet against the mats lining it. Rebounding off, she described a graceful arc in the air before slamming both of her bare feet hard into the punching bag...

...and then landing on her back with an ungainly thud. Wincing from the impact, she opened her eyes, staring up at the ceiling lights as she caught her breath. This would have gone a lot better if she had a training partner, she noted. Sadly, Kyo was indisposed at the moment, which meant it was just her for now, in this somewhat secluded area of the gym.

She sighed. Her track record so far in LAW had been abysmal. Sure, she was getting plenty of fans due to her spunky, defiant nature, her good looks and her defiant, never say die attitude. And sure, she had had quite a few close matches...but damn it, she had yet to win anything. The closest she had gotten was a mixed tag win fought alongside Kyo. But she wanted her OWN wins, damn it, not something won while fighting in her brother's shadow!

She slapped the mat in frustration. In her first league, things had been a bit better. She had her share of losses, true, but her fair share of wins as well. Here, in this new league? It was as though her ability to actually win matches had gone out the window. She had no idea if it was because the competition was that much tougher here, or if she was just starting to slip, to lose her skill. She desperately told herself it wasn't the latter, but it was getting harder and harder to believe that.

Sighing again, she sat up and grabbed a towel to dry herself off with. It was getting late, and quite frankly she wanted to be elsewhere for a bit. She wanted to hit a bar, chug down several bottles of soju, maybe find a cute girl or guy to distract herself with, and just forget about her lousy record for the night...

[killcarrion]

Kazuya...

Flared muscles accompanied each bicep curl counted down inside Kazuya's head as his daily exercise regimen started winding down. Perspiration raining down upon the floor and bench press he was leveraging himself against until settling down the dumbbell in an exhausted huff. Kazu pausing the playlist of rock music in his airpods as he scoped out his immediate surroundings. Athletes of every caliber being represented as sprinters tallied up hundreds of miles on treadmills, protein shake guzzlers pumped iron to extraneous levels, and fitness freaks counted the calories of their vitamin water bottles. Examining this state-of-the-art facility sure made him realize just how far he's come since beating up drunken degenerates as a bouncer. Yep, it was times like these where Kazuya needed to take stock and outright accept just how batshit crazy his life has become taking this wrestling business seriously, and not just as a side-gig meant to earn some extra cash on the side.

The roguish renegade having been inundated with contract offers after earning a decisive victory over a storied veteran in his debut match, which ended up snowballing into a headache he'd never accounted for. Online news articles heralding him as some Hot Shot Wrestling Prodigy and Face Of The Next Generation when all he did was take advantage of the opportunities offered by a veteran who made the grievous miscalculation of underestimating her opponent. All that unwanted attention nettled him something fierce, but he nevertheless parlayed it into a stacked contract with sponsorship deals, luxury accommodations, the works. Not like he was rolling in cash though since he was still supporting his deadbeat mom and keeping her wine cabinet stocked at all times, but overall he couldn't complain about where all these dynamic twists and turns his life was taking. Actually, he was starting to become rather relaxed and Zen-like as he closed his eyes...

Thwack. Thwack.

...when he opened his eyelids thanks to the disruptive sounds echoed within one of the corners of the expansive training facility. Concentrating his focus on the figure levying ruthless strikes into the punching bag, until acknowledging that he knows that spiky-haired head anywhere. Kazuya balking from the sheer happenstance of randomly crossing paths with her of all people, remembering when he was on the receiving ends of those clobbering strikes. Not exactly the most pleasant of memories, but Kazuya knew a diehard fighter when he saw one. Making a break for the exit doors did cross his mind, but whatever prevented him from doing so was also what compelled him to stride behind her without her knowledge. Kazuya taking her towel while she was distracted from gazing into the ceiling, and offering her towel back and a fresh water bottle to her from behind. "You know, I'd still probably place my bets on the punching bag winning in a match between you..."

[Underdoggo]

"You know, I'd still probably place my bets on the punching bag winning in a match between you..."

Makie froze at that voice-- brash, cocky, dismissive, and dredged up from the depths of her memory. No, it can't be...

Slowly, she turned, and there he was. He was dressed differently this time-- an orange sleevless hoodie that showed off his perspiring muscles, as well as some baggy shorts. But that spiked blonde hair was unmistakable, as was the almost dismissive nonchalance of his expression or the hint of the sneer in his voice.

Kazuya Ono. Previously in Makie's career, she had fought this brash boy in a prostyle match, and had been immediately turned off by his brash, arrogant demeanour and the way he seemed to be constantly looking down on her. After a fierce match that had seen the two of them batter each other to hell and back, Makie had lost, choked out in a sleeper hold. It was a match that she constantly thought back to, a score she had always wanted to even.

And now...and now Kazuya was here, in the training room to her, offering her a water bottle and her own damn towel.

She snatched the towel out of his hand, though she did not take the proffered water bottle. "What the hell are you doing here?" she growled.

[killcarrion]

Unbeknownst to anyone viewing this altercation from the sidelines in between their own training regimen...snide sarcasm combined with a bottle of Poland Spring was about as cordial and respectful a greeting Kazuya could ever hope to muster. Which he figured was a bargain considering his basic instincts were to beeline it for the exit doors once he recognized this spiky haired tomboy going to town on that punching bag. Being the only familiar face in a sea of strangers was one reason why he opted to sack up and step up to the plate here. But in actuality, it was only thanks to his monumental victory over Makie that he secured such a lucrative contract with LAW in the first place. And nothing pissed Kazuya off more than feeling indebted to someone. So, he figured he may as well make nice with this chick. Well try, anyway.

"Hell am I doing here? I'm a talent scout, scoping out the fitness center for potential lingerie models...I'm freaking signed with LAW, obviously. Spotted you from across the gym, figured you could use some company is all, alright? Put the pitchforks down, Jesus..." Kazuya slackened his stance and stuffed his hands inside his hoodie pockets with a thuggish snarl. A chilled demeanor in comparison to the seething temperament eyeing him down."Well right now I'm watching Makie Akamatsu take on probably the only opponent she has a chance in hell of defeating these days..." Kazuya casually flicking his thumb in the direction of the battered punching bag before continuing. "Guess a vaunted veteran like yourself losing to a rookie for his debut match fucks with your head sumthin fierce. Ya do know yer not gonna get any better without actual sparring partners, right?"

[Underdoggo]

Yep, Makie thought to herself, Kazuya was still Kazuya: a massive, obnoxious asshole. Makie had known heels who could be cruel, cheating bastards without being assholes about it: Makie would still rank them above Kazuya any day of the week. He couldn't say anything-- even out of the ring apparently-- without it being a verbal putdown.

But here he was now, offering her a water bottle...and at the same time nonchalantly telling her that his victory over her had given him the boost he needed to get into LAW. She snatched the bottle from him, and was about to give him an insincere congratulations and wish for him to get the hell out, when Kazuya went further. He proceeded to remark that the punching bag was the only thing she could defeat...and insinuated that the main reason she kept losing was because she kept thinking about her loss to him.

Involuntarily, she crushed the water bottle in her hand.

"Oh, fuck the FUCK off!" she snapped, throwing the bottle back at him. "If you have nothing better to do than run your mouth and have the world's most punchable face, then do it somewhere else!" Preferably near someone who will actually punch it, Makie thought, though she was sorely tempted to do so. "And unless you're volunteering to take the punching bag's place, it's none of your fucking business whether I have a partner or not!"

[killcarrion]

Considering Kazuya opted to sign a contract with a wrestling federation who regularly employed ravenous killers and psychotic nymphomaniacs on a daily basis, the Prize Fighter figured it would be in his best interest to scope out the talent roster and know specifically just what he was literally signing himself up for. It was during this laidback researching that he spotted the match record of a familiar name with an equally familiar haircut. And, uh...woof. Suffice to say that Makie wasn't exactly racking up wins like Floyd Mayweather, here. Kazuya figured that some semblance of sympathy factored into this uncharacteristic decision here today as well, genuinely impressed by Makie's choice to eventually take his bottled water as an accepted peace offering. Which was good, because Kazuya was a straight shooter with nothing held back. And she may not like everything he was about to-

*PLUNK!!!*

"HEY!!! THE HELL'S YER PROBLEM!!??" Kazuya's tendency to scope out his surroundings in mid conversation meant that the aerial water bottle came careening at him straight out of his blindspot, his arms flailing in a stuttered backpedal at the splashing explosion of splattered water that caught everyone's attention in the training facility. Bystanders beginning to separate themselves from the volatile scene unfolding as Kazuya balked and patted down his drenched clothes but stood steadfast with an enraged glower as well. "GEEZ LADY...no wonder no one wants to spar with you!!! Live volcanoes have shorter tempers. And what? You think getting your ass kicked by me again is gonna turn yer luck around? Cause that's all that's gonna happen, cupcake..." Kazuya savagely stated after courageously stepping up close to be all up in Makie's grill, emphasizing that last word with an index finger poked into her shoulder...

[Underdoggo]

Makie was seething right now. Part of it was Kazuya's overbearing arrogance; she couldn't stand the guy in the ring, and she was now finding that she couldn't stand him outside of it. She had hoped that he would take the hint at this point and just leave her the fuck alone. She didn't owe him conversation, she didn't owe him her presence, she didn't even owe him courtesy. She figured by this point that she was showing all the signs of someone who was absolutely disinterested in talking to him. Okay, so maybe throwing the water bottle had been going a bit far, but the prick knew just how to make her angry.

Instead of taking the hint, though, Kazuya proceeded to get even MORE in Makie's face. And mock her even more. And start poking her in the shoulder. Makie felt her eye twitch at this unwanted physical contact.

"Fine," she growled, edging up further so that her forehead was practically pressing against Kazuya's, her eyes glaring into his. "You want a spar? You have a damn spar." She glanced over at the far side of the gym. "There's an empty ring over there. I'll make you eat your fucking words this time!"

[killcarrion]

Unbeknownst to the contentious militants currently butting heads within the training room, their immediate vicinity had been emptied of practically all onlookers concerned that brawling fisticuffs would start flying any second now. And Kazuya couldn't blame them quite frankly considering he's clocked people right in the jawline for less egregious offenses than merely chucking a water bottle at him. Guess no good deed really does go unpunished. Kazuya earnestly blaming himself for even attempting anything resembling a conversation with this certifiable lunatic who's apparently governed entirely on her goddamn emotions. Regardless of the circumstances though, Kazu never was one to back down from a donnybrook. The prizefighter meeting foreheads and having his own competitive fires emblazoned once the gauntlet was officially thrown down. "Tch...Yeah right, you couldn't beat a drum the way you are now, shortstack. Whatever. Maybe putting Baby Makie to sleep again will be just what the doctor ordered..." Kazuya snarled right back before making a beeline towards the adjacent ring, a high-pitched whistle beckoning one of the gym's employees towards them whose duties just so happen to include being impromptu referees for LAW talent.

[Underdoggo]

Makie was fuming right now, and Kazuya's comments weren't helping it all. Kazuya had never respected her, in the ring or out of it, and this night was no different. Right now, though, Makie had a lot of pent up frustration that she wanted to release-- over her loss record, over her seeming failure to improve, over all of the friendships and relationships she had had to abandon...all of it. And now Kazuya had just willingly offered himself as a target for the release of that frustration.

Wordlessly, she rolled into the ring and settled into her corner. Fuming as she was, she was not about to ignore important pre-match preparation time. She softened her breath, and began to stretch her arms and he legs...never taking her eyes off Kazuya all the while, while the gym staff, more than a little confused and concerned over the situation, checked the two of them over.

"No cheap shots, no weapons, no attacking after the other person has submitted," the staffer said aloud to both of them. "Anything like that and I'm having you both evicted. Understand?" This staffer could easily read the bad blood simmering between Kazuya and Makie.

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you," Makie growled as she stretched. Her entire body felt like a coiled spring, ready to rush into combat against the blonde jerk opposite her...

[killcarrion]

One of Kazuya's old hoodlum friends once remarked that Kazu should have gone into the animal wrangling business given how comfortable he seems to be getting ravenous pitbulls and rottweilers to settle down. Kazu figured that natural inclination of his to not back down in the face of immediate threats was one of the main reasons why he continued to play with fire by teasing the enraged Akamatsu sibling like that. Suffice to say that Makie was dealing with a firestorm of emotions given that she just beaned him in the head with a water bottle, and sometimes you just gotta work through that shit and get it out of your system before it eats you up from the inside out. And even if not, Kazu could think of worse ways to spend an afternoon than scoring another win over an established veteran. "Yeah, Yeah...Just don't get in my way..." The street punk remarked in his own corner, disrobing his hoodie now flung out of the ring as he started performing his own stretches albeit with his back to Makie now in her own corner. Taking some settling breaths and centering himself for the fight to come before swirling around with competitive determination on his glaring facials. The referee signaling for the commencement of the match had Kazuya approaching the middle of the ring with his game face on and grappling arms extended...except instead attempting a Big Boot after a short sprint taken.