But Toshiko yelled as she took another step forward, launching a strike at her opponent. She couldn't feel her hands. It took effort to close her fingers, and she was fortunate that her feet were frozen too, as it made the cuts on the bottom of them more tolerable. Ito threw punches, kicks, and then finally went for a big roundhouse kick. But as she rotated, a kick from her opponent swept out from her. Ito landed hard with a yell, and then a punch came to her cheek immediately after. And after that, she felt her arm be grabbed, twisted, and then a foot on the side of her head. There was no escaping it, and she knew full well any attempts would lead to further damage. And yet, Toshiko was ready to try something--anything to escape.
"Enough," came a man's booming voice. After a couple moments, her arm was released and Toshiko curled inward slightly, holding it as she bitterly looked at the snow-covered stone below her. She couldn't remember what was said, but she remembered the look as she glanced up at the man. Disappointment, resentment, and possibly worse of all, the immediate disinterest after his eyes left her own.
And then a yell came from a blonde girl as she lay on the wrestling mat. Suddenly jarring Toshiko Ito from a trance. She held the girl in an arm lock, and her foot was pressed against the side of her head. The girl was tapping on the mat with her free hand and shouted. "I give! I give!"
Toshiko's eyes widened for a moment as there was a bit of a crowd forming and another girl shouted at her. "She gave up! What's wrong with you!?"
And Ito would then release the blonde abruptly and step away. She was already not terribly well-liked in this gym--mostly for reasons of being entirely too rough with any sparring partners she had, being rather off-putting to talk to, and just all around creeping people out. This certainly didn't help any of that now. It was just another in a long string of valid excuses for the looks she received. Toshiko kept her eyes on the blonde and then muttered, "I am sorry." And then the Japanese striker would hurriedly walk out of the ring as people parted for her to go through, talking to themselves.
Toshiko was frustrated, and angry, and her pace and expression made that very clear as she headed to the locker room, starting to quickly change. She couldn't believe what happened in that spar. A strike she should have dodged. A hold that could have ended things sooner. A whiffed kick that she hesitated for just a split second on. All things she did wrong. All unacceptable. The embarrassing trance she was in paled in comparison--it didn't have anything to do with her performance. And it was a performance, despite handily beating this girl, was lacking to her.
She needed to do better. She had to do better. After suffering her first loss to Amy Evans not too long ago, it was all Ito could think about. She was incensed by the failure. Toshiko was weak. She didn't deserve any of these opportunities. She was pathetic. All negative thoughts that could be derived from that loss, she had said back to herself. She couldn't ever allow it to happen again.
And as Toshiko had started to pile her things into her bag, she paused when she grabbed her phone, ready to throw it in her bag as well, when she noticed a notification from "Vivi", an affectionate shorthand of her girlfriend, Viviana Accera. Not long ago, she had changed it from a less formal name to a more playful one she had begun adopting to her. A side effect of her becoming so close to Viviana was melting down her stiff layers. She got ready to open her phone to look at the text, but she hesitated. Closing her eyes for a moment, she contemplated with herself. The responses of her texts and calls had begun to get increasingly more scarce since her loss, and mostly only got a follow up when Viviana had asked for a follow up. Toshiko had cited that she was busy as a reason for the distance she was creating, and had mentioned more than a few times wanting to let Viviana focus on her big debut match she had coming up. A match that Viviana had also, regrettably, lost. And it was something they hadn't talked about past very brief condolences.
Ultimately the phone went into her bag without seeing what the text was about, and Ito threw on a jacket, getting ready to leave the gym, looking frustrated and angry. She could have done better--she would need to next time. And she would need a better sparring partner. She needed to be the absolute best she could be to avoid another loss. She had no interest in speaking to anyone on her way out as she walked through the gym at an increased pace, barely paying any mind to anyone around her, ready to leave.
Training Outfit w/o mask