Catch a Tiger (For Blaze)

[CyanDimitrik]

Katsumi Oshiro is surprising herself lately. Why she did what she did in the ring, and especially with her, she couldn't say. It was so far removed from anything the Punk Princess has ever done in her wrestling career, and she's desperately hoping no one else in the stadium knew what was happening. It wasn't meant for them! The moment was so intoxicating, they wouldn't understand! It was just meant for her and the woman who'd been a jerk to her!

Either way, she had to shower. She had to shower. And her attire, she had to change out of that. And after a much longer-than-usual stare of disbelief in the mirror, she made arrangement. A message was sent to Bengal; an address. Knock six times. And after a moment of contemplation, she adds in to bring either spare wrestling gear or swimsuit. That'll be her call.

Fastforward, and Katsumi has made it back to her apartment. Small, modest, part of a much larger complex and situated on the third floor. But despite the humble appearance and size, it's meticulously organized with sound equipment, computer, and various musical instruments arranged at the far end of the main room and across the kitchenette. Katsumi lays back on her couch wearing a fluffy gray robe, one leg dangling off the side, staring up at the ceiling. Maybe Bengal won't even show up. That's a distinct possibility!

Her eyes start to slowly lid over, the fatigue and strain of the match starting to catch up to her...

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

Bengal could have just ignored the message that she notices on her phone. It's already hours after the match, and she's just begun to recover from the beating she took in the ring tonight. She's already showered, using extra soap and scrubbing doubly hard, as if hoping it can wash away her loss. No such luck.

She could have just turned the device off and gone to bed alone, like she does practically every other night. Like the cats that she models her costume after, Bengal lives a mostly solitary life. And she has no obligation to follow Katsumi's demands, technically. She was defeated, yes, but the match hadn't been scheduled with POW rules. That was just something the Punk Princess had hissed into her ear, as Bengal lay dazed underneath her. Not official in any way...

But weaseling out of things like that isn't Bengal's style. At least, that's the way she decides to rationalize it, though her heart skips a beat upon seeing Katsumi's message. In truth, she doesn't want to refuse. But admitting that would mean admitting her interest. Admitting that a part of her enjoyed the way her opponent dominated her in the closing moments of their bout. Admitting...a lot of things.

She re-reads the message several times. A wrestling costume, or a swimsuit? The idea of wrestling another match right now makes Bengal's legs want to give out beneath her; she's already exhausted. Besides, her best costume is in the laundry now anyway. She does have a swimsuit, a simple dark orange two-piece with black trim - but the idea of carrying it into Katsumi's apartment makes her flush. In the end, she decides to wear it underneath her street clothes.

Before she leaves her hotel room, she dresses in nondescript black jeans, and a sweatshirt with the hood pulled up, to hide her cat-eared headband. She doesn't want to risk anyone recognizing her on her late-night stroll. She rides a bus to a stop near the address, then walks the rest of the way. She navigates the hallways of the large apartment complex, finding her way to the third floor. Finally, she finds herself outside the door of Katsumi's apartment. Bengal takes a deep breath, then knocks on the door six times. Each rap of her knuckles seems to match her heart, pounding in her chest. Knock-Knock. Knock-Knock. Knock-knock.

[CyanDimitrik]

No... she probably won't be following through. Why would she? What could she get out of it? Being bossed around when it wasn't even a stipulation. Who would do that? Tonight will just go down as a... very... unusual.... ...weird... ... ...blip... in her... history...


KNOCK KNOCK. KNOCK KNOCK. KNOCK KNOCK.

Katsumi's eyes snap open, staring up at the ceiling. At first, she isn't sure if she actually heard it. She had just dozed off - how long was she out? Did she hear it or did she dream it? Where is she right now? Wha-

Sitting up, Katsumi gives her head a quick shake to try to focus. She takes in her room, her couch, her- door! Swinging her legs around, Katsumi presses her bare feet to the carpet and pads her way over to the door. A few seconds to center herself mentally, and she pulls it open!

She does not recognize who's standing before her. Not at first.

"Emminem?"

Wait.

"Oh, oh. Duh. Yeah."

Recognizing Bengal's face under the hood, she pulls the door open more widely and steps aside. With a subtle jerk of her head, she scatters the silky tresses from her eyes while affecting an aloof demeanor. No, this isn't odd at all! Of course she expected Bengal to come to the apartment. She demanded it, after all! Whatever!

[BengalTheBlazeTiger]

Bengal steps into the apartment, taking a moment to get oriented with her surroundings. She's impressed by the modest, tasteful decor, and by the collection of instruments. I guess the "punk" gimmick isn't just about her attitude, she muses. There's sound-editing equipment too, and plenty of comfortable-looking furniture. As someone who's spent most of the past year traveling for matches, sleeping on buses or in roadside hotel rooms, Bengal can't help but feel a little jealous.

And then, of course, there's Katsumi, who quickly becomes the focus of her attention. The Japanese woman is immediately recognizable by her silky slate-colored hair and sparkling green eyes, but there's something different about her now, something that wasn't there in their match earlier. Maybe it's her flowing grey robe, or her more relaxed demeanor. She seems softer, more inviting - and even more heartbreakingly beautiful. Bengal immediately feels self-conscious, wishing she had worn something elegant too, instead of a non-descript sweatshirt. But she couldn't exactly walk into Katsumi's apartment in a nightgown! I showed up. That's all that matters, she reassures herself.

"You wanted me," she says, taking down the hood of her sweatshirt. Now that she's already in Katsumi's apartment, there's no more need for disguises. "So, here I am." She tries to sound nonchalant, and hopes she isn't putting too much emphasis on the "wanted". But her heart is still fluttering in her chest. She still isn't sure exactly what this POW match will be like. The indie leagues she's toured previously didn't have anything like this. Is she going to do something to me? She wonders. Or...make me do something? A thousand images are flashing through her mind. She tries to push them away and stay focused on Katsumi, on the present. I can't let myself get carried away.

[CyanDimitrik]

"Right. Um. Yeah. I did," says Katsumi, a little uncertain of her own tone. Should she be trying to play host? Or be assertive? Or- aahh, why is she overthinking this!? She turns her head aside, lifts a fist, and daintily coughs as an outward sign of an inward realigning of her sensibilities. And when she refocuses on Bengal, she leans forward and moves that hand to lightly press against the other woman's chest, intent on pressing her back against the door.

With gaze hooded and sly smile edging the corner of her lips, she notes, "You were a diiiick in the ring. But I won. And now you're mine." Nevermind the fact that that was never a part of the original arrangement, or that Bengal didn't in any way have to capitulate. These details just distract from the moment! "I want a couple things. First, I wanna see your real eyes." Those vibrant emeralds zero in on Bengal's felid contacts. "Then I want a name. I don't wanna call you Bengal all night. Unless your parents were really weird, there's something else you answer to."

If her hand has remained in place on Bengal's chest insofar, it now withdraws. Katsumi takes a step back, inviting her 'guest' to move freely again. Likely to remove the contacts somewhere with a mirror and soap.