L.A.W. - League of Anime Wrestling

Parker sat there for a long moment, folding her legs to sit cross-legged. She held ehr arms up behind her head, elbows pointed to the ceiling, as she just let her body come down from everything. Her lungs still worked like bellows, every inhale tugging against the faint ache of the spar that had just ended. The rush was fading now, adrenaline draining out, leaving the honest weight of exhaustion in its wake.

She tilted her head up just enough to meet Madeline’s gaze, and despite the rasp in her breath, she managed a crooked grin. She had her own thoughts on what pride meant to her, but she kept them to herself. She knew Madeline was speaking of a place of either knowing or wanting to help inspire her. A hand came up to wipe at the sheen of sweat on her brow before she let it flop back down against her thigh. "Mostly for laughs and giggles."

The joke came out dry, but it was hard to hold the false sincerity of it as she glowed from their exchange, looking content to weather her aches less as an inconvenience and more of a badge of honor. When Madeline extended her hand, Parker didn’t even hesitate. She reached up, her hand slipping into the veteran’s grasp, and as Madeline pulled, Parker rose with a grunt. Her legs felt half-liquid, and halfway up she wobbled, shoulder bumping lightly into Madeline’s frame.

"Eh-sorry… still a bit jelly-legged." She caught herself a bit sluggishly, straightening with an embarrassed chuckle, though her cheeks were already flushed from exertion enough to hide it. When she looked back at Madeline, it was with a grin that didn’t quite reach her tired eyes but carried plenty of heart. "Kind of you to say."

When the advice came, simple, practical, and delivered in that calm tone that felt halfway between an order and encouragement, Parker nodded, earnest and quiet for once. "Yeah… water, stretch. Got it." She hadn’t needed the direction, but hearing it issued by someone else, where there was an expectation for it to be carried out motivated her, just a smidge.

"I think the walk back home is going to be all the fight I can handle honestly… I might have overdone it a bit." She started the slow shuffle across the mat, each step deliberate, her body stiff but her spirit far from dimmed. Reaching her gym bag, she crouched to fish out her bottle but once down into the squat, she just plopped down onto the floor to ease the protest in her thighs. The brunette flipped the top, taking a long, cooling sip. The silence between gulps felt earned, like a small peace offering after a war of motion.

The gym resumed its regular pace again, the low hum of air vents and the soft drag of shoes against the mat entering the ears. Madeline watched Parker come down from the high of the spar, her chest rising and falling in steady, tired waves. Her posture exhibited neither impatience nor condescension, only the subtle, deliberate composure that accompanies experience. The English Rose recognised the girl’s expression, which was a mixture of pride and wonder. The aftermath of a fight well fought, when adrenaline faded and honesty took its place.

When Parker leaned back and let out that weak joke, Madeline’s lips curved faintly, her laugh quiet but rich with something unspoken. “I’d say you’ve earned more than laughs.” The tone wasn’t teasing this time; it was approving, almost indulgent.

She bent slightly to take Parker’s offered hand again, pulling her to her feet in one smooth motion. The stumble came as expected, light as it was, and Madeline steadied her with a touch to the arm. The touch lingered slightly, but it wasn’t possessive; it was a purposeful gesture, reminding Parker that Madeline observed everything. “Whoa there.” Madeline chuckled, a hint of a smirk finding its way to her lips. “Can’t have you falling for me after all that effort~.”

As Parker regained her footing, Madeline stepped back, rolling her shoulders once to work out the faint tension still sitting between them. “Then again, I tend to have that effect on people~.” Her own breathing had long since returned to normal, though her pulse was still faintly alive beneath the skin. She crouched by her gym bag, pulling free a folded bit of paper from an inside pocket and, with a pen in the side pocket, scribbled something across it in a looping hand.

She didn’t announce what she was doing. Instead, when Parker made her way back toward her bag, bottle in hand, Madeline closed the short distance between them. Her shadow stretched across the mat; her movements were unhurried. She crouched low beside her and placed the small piece of paper on top of Parker’s knee, pressing it down with a light fingertip so it didn’t slide away.

“If you ever fancy another go…” she said softly, meeting her eyes with a look that balanced amusement and promise, “…you’ll know where to find me.”

She stood then, straightening her frame with that easy composure that made her look as though she could start the entire match over again without missing a beat. “You definitely did. But you’ll outlast most opponents here, from what I can see. For now, rest up, Parker.” Madeline added, turning away to collect her things, a faint laugh in her voice. “Perhaps next time, I’ll find ways to test your stamina across the board~.”

And with that, the Englishwoman slung her towel over her shoulder, leaving the faintest trace of her perfume and the sound of soft, confident footsteps as she made her way off the mat.

Parker stayed seated for a moment after Madeline left the paper on her knee, staring at it like it was a foreign object. Her breath was still coming a bit uneven, sweat cooling on her skin, the quiet of the gym settling heavy around her. Everything about the Englishwoman lingered like perfume in the air, a certain elegance and presentation that was lovely to behold but strong enough that too much might be a bit overpowering.

She peeled the paper off her leg, unfolding it with cautious fingers. The writing couldn’t have fit its owner any better, even the ink seemed to carry confidence. Parker smiled faintly, shaking her head as a small laugh escaped her.

"Guess that’s a first," she murmured to herself, voice low, amused. "Getting my butt handed to me and getting a number for my trouble."

When she looked up again, Madeline was already walking away, that unhurried stride, the towel slung perfectly over her shoulder, like she’d stepped straight out of an advert. Parker’s lips curved in a small, thoughtful smile. She wasn’t sure how much of that charm was just Madeline being Madeline, or if some of it was... something else.

"Geez… talk about life goals." she mused quietly to herself with quiet admiration. Parker stood, slinging her own bag over her shoulder, still feeling the ache in her muscles,the good kind of ache that came from a real test.

She hesitated, then called out to the fleeting image of Madeline: "Thanks… for the advice! And the roll!" Parker was already smiling again, rubbing the back of her neck with a bashful hand as she started for the exit in the opposite direction. She didn’t want to overthink it, but there was a warmth in her chest that hadn’t been there before. Maybe it was the adrenaline. Maybe it was respect. Or maybe… it was just what happened when someone like Madeline made you feel seen.

Either way, Parker tucked the note carefully into her bag before she left, folded, but not forgotten.