It's a long way to the top, and every match matters. None can be a throwaway. Every last one of them has to be something the audience can sink their teeth into, and something that showcases potential - the right to get a shot at a title. Katsumi may have joined too late to take part in the tournament underway, but pretty soon, that belt will be in circulation. She wants it. She wants that fame, that glory, that recognition. So when the management told her she's booked for a 'best two of three falls' match for her third appearance, Katsumi eagerly accepted. Demonstrations of endurance and the chance to really dominate can be a solid step in the right direction!
The fact that it's only her third match isn't lost on her. They're taking chances on her. And the girl she'll be facing is about as opposite to her as someone could possibly be in every way but one: she, too, is new to the federation. It doesn't give her much to go on in terms of doing research on her opponent - she's pretty, in a down-to-earth way, seems to put her best face forward with the audience, a real girlscout. Performance-wise, she seems strong and tough. And, of course, she's a little bigger than Katsumi.
Some things seem to just be a given! Birds fly, fish swim, and Katsumi's opponents have a size advantage. Her old federation didn't use weight divisions, so she had a fair mix back then. Here, finding a girl that's her size or, novelty of novelties, one who happens to be smaller than her, is a rarity.
Doesn't matter. It all comes back to goals and ambition. Katsumi reflects on it as she puts the final touches on her look in the mirror of her dressing room. Her lips press together, ensuring an even, if light coat of pink gloss. Everything else is already in place; from the longsleeved pink top to the black sportsbra-ish wrestling top underneath, the black short shorts, feline-themed belt, sleek black wrestling boots, and choker, she's the perfect mix of femininity and edge. Attempts to distract herself with final check-ups works only for a time, though. No matter how much she determines within herself to come out on top tonight, it's probably gonna be rough. Her hands set to the counter, head hanging. Inhale.
Exhaaaale.
'
Don't screw this up.'
A knock at the door alerts her. It's time.
Behind the curtain, Katsumi can hear the country girl working the crowd to the strains of an electric guitar and the vocals of... well,
country. She grins to herself, already knowing the angle she's going to be playing with her. It's not original; not by a longshot. But it's still fun, and she's never been one to pass up the low-hanging fruit. Still, the crowd sounds like they really love this girl. They're going to be a pain to win over, if even possible. She prefers they cheer for her, but she can work with boos. It's a silent stonewall that really jacks her up.
She shakes her head, opting to put that out of her mind for now and instead focus on her entrance. Timing is everything. The music she chose for this match would be different yet again - something poppy, but a little less forceful, more enduring. A slow boil of a tune. And yet, still one that would make her oldschool gamer nerds in the crowd happy.
The bass strikes of the music are met with bright, rhytmic flashes of strobe lights lining either side of the entry ramp. As the synths kick in, trios of red, green, and purple laser lights flash in beat before rolling with a flourish. The announcer begins:
"
And introducing her opponent! From Osaka, Japan! KATSUMI! OOOOSHIROOOO!"
The young grappler springs into view, arms raised out to either side with palms flat and head bowed. She bobs in beat with the music, soaking in the receptive praise of the audience, letting it wash over her. Her head soon tips back, eyes happily shut and smiling brightly. When those dark green eyes turn to the ring, they zero on the girl already occupying it. Her bright smile becomes a confident smirk, and her bobbing with the music has been replaced with a rhythmic hip-bop. She holds out an upturned thumb and slowly rotates until it's in the downwards, disapproving position.
With that, she starts down the ramp at a spirited trot. Along the way, she grabs the lower hem of her pink top and draws it up and over her head, exposing her bare, toned midriff and black sportsbra-esque wrestling top covering the curvature of her breasts.
The shirt is cast to the corner of the ring before she hops up onto the ring apron. She performs a smooth rotation to face out to the audience, winks an eye, and backbends over the top rope to reverse somersault into the ring proper. From there, she moves into her corner to be inspected by the referee-girl for any foreign objects.
Now that she's close enough to get a good look at her opponent, there's just a twinge in her otherwise unbroken, confident smile. Cathy's freakin'
cute. Like ridiculously cute. She's probably extremely sweet and thoughtful on top of it. She's already bracing for the audience to be squarely set against her in this one. But that's still something she can feed on. She can let Cathy be the favorite here tonight. As long as she walks away the winner, she can make it work.
"
Hey, redneck!," she shouts across the ring as her music fades out. "
You know this is a ring and not your uncle-slash-husband's barn, right?"
Let the barbs fly.
