Inner Demons

[PuroQueen]

It was late at night, the moon casting a pale glow through the windows of the dojo. It was the kind of place that was easy to miss if you weren't explicitly looking for it, nestled in a quiet corner of Tokyo and hidden away from the bustling heart of the city, with no neon signs or bright lights to draw attention to it. All except for one. An old-fashioned wooden sign perched just above the entrance to the dojo, a faded yet familiar red oni mask emblem hand-painted onto its front and back.

The door was left slightly ajar to let the cool night breeze in, refreshing the skin of the sole occupant inside. For Kuroi, it was her sanctuary. She did her best practice sessions among the peace and quiet of the empty streets, the stillness broken only by the sound of her own training. But she hadn't trained in weeks; instead, she vented. Kuroi was alone, hitting the heavy bags with a stone-cold expression that belied weeks of pent-up frustration. The air was thick with the sound of Kuroi's strikes, the thud of her fists and feet echoing off the walls of the dojo. It was a hypnotic sound, the rhythm of her movements creating a kind of dance. She moved with a grace and precision that was almost mesmerizing, each strike landing exactly where she intended it to.

Kuroi Kamikaze

She was adorned completely in her fight attire, a practice that would have been considered unusual before her first match. But there wasn't a night since then that Kuroi hadn't been in this dojo, hitting the same bag in the same spot, wearing the same clothes she had been disqualified in. Her mind wasn't processing the empty thud of fists against the leather bag, but rather envisioning them pounding into the flesh of a very particular woman.

Kuroi never walked away from a fight unsatisfied. It just wasn't a thing that happened to her. In the pit, fighters were allowed, no, encouraged, to finish what they started as soon as they stepped onto the mats. The results were usually one bloody and mangled combatant on the ground, and one slightly less disfigured fighter hobbling away with a cheque in hand. It was the sort of raw brutality Kuroi was already beginning to miss. She knew what she was getting into when she signed with LAW, at least she thought she did. Perhaps not quite as much bloodshed, but at the very least, there would be the sort of satisfaction underground fighting simply couldn't provide: the thrill of thousands, and one day, maybe millions of people witnessing her hard-fought moment of triumph. But on her debut, her opponent had denied her even that small comfort, not through superior skill or talent - if that had been the case, Kuroi might have been able to come to terms with it - but by simply being a stubborn piece of meat. Kuroi had walked away with an L forever attached to her name because that reckless woman would rather have been injured than submit. The very first loss of her fighting career, all because of... Sheila.

Thump-Thump-Thump

Kuroi's fist flew into the bag with newfound fury, the mere mentioning of that woman's name sending her thoughts ablaze. Sweat poured down her face as her calloused knuckles and toes pounded into the leather over and over again, the sound masking the eerie creak of the dojo door slowly widening...

[BlackAkuma]

The dojo door would only eerily creak open for a couple of seconds, before it was flung wide open so hard that it nearly flung off the hinges. Sheila Morgan hadn't done anything subtle in her life, and she wasn’t about to start now.

”Kuroi Kamikaze, Kire Kire, Yamanaka, whatever the flying fuck your name is!” Sheila smacked her palm with her fist and ground it in. “I got bizzo with your skinny arse, bitch.”

Sheila was pissed off at Kuroi for a litany of reasons. It wasn’t just that she’d beaten the shit out of her in their match. Plenty of people had beaten her shitless in her entire life, so much so that she couldn't name them all. Back in Australia, hardly a weak passed where she hadn't been busted open, broken a bone, or ruptured something. They actually had a procedure and standing room at her local hospital, just for her. She knew all the doctors and nurses there on a first name basis.

It was just that she’d done so in the most humiliating way possible. She’d spent the entire match groping her and taunting her and demeaning her, and at some point things got real personal. It didn’t take much for Sheila to hate a person, but even by her standards, Kuroi had gotten to that point in record time. Sheila had fought back hard, but the woman cut her off at every turn, beating her with a skill that she couldn't hope to compete with.

Hell, it wasn’t just that she’d knocked Sheila out, which meant that she won in the worst way possible. As much as she wanted to put a W in her column, she didn’t want an asterisk next to it. Winning a match because you got beat up was the absolute dumbest way she could’ve imagined winning. At least with all the losses she’d picked up, she could leave the ring with her head held high. This? This was a joke.

But no, as bad as all that was, it wasn’t the worst thing. No, the worst part of it was that Sheila had to spend the next few days - after she got discharged from the hospital - asking people about Kuroi. Requesting information. Looking stuff up on the internet. Checking around forums. Googling. Doing an annoying amount of straight-up detective work, all so she could figure out where Kuroi hung out.

That was Kuroi’s biggest sin: She made Sheila do fucking homework.

So yeah, when she burst through the dojo door, a baseball bat slung on her shoulder and decked out in her wrestling gear, she wasn’t in a good mood. Despite the bandages and wraps over her body, she was still ready for a fight, even though that wasn’t exactly what she’d come for. Just in case things got squirrely.

[PuroQueen]

It was like an explosion had gone off within the small confines of the dojo, and Kuroi reacted accordingly. She nearly lost her step as she whipped around to face the door, having to hold onto the training bag behind her to catch her balance. A lone figure stood in the doorway, their body's outline illuminated by the full moon's pale blue glow. Their front however, was a solid silhouette. Kuroi squinted her eyes, fists instinctively clenched by her side as she tried to make out the details of the intruder who stood before her. But then, she spoke.

Sheila

Ironically, Kuroi had fantasized about them meeting once again in a situation not too different than this. Just her and Sheila in a dark, undisclosed battlefield, fists bare and ready to finish what they had started. Even though it seemed like that moment was finally upon them, Kuroi could only stand paralyzed, unsure if the woman before her was an apparition formed from those deep, troubled reveries, or if it really was Sheila in the flesh But there was no denying that familiar Australian cadence, that foreign pitch that had raped the ears and haunted the dreams of Kuroi for nights on end now.

"Wha - how did you... what!?" Kuroi stuttered. This was far from the climactic second encounter she had first envisioned. No cinematic narrowing of eyes, or I've been expecting you Ms. Morgan. Just pure, genuine shock that this brute bitch had managed not only to locate her fortress of solitude, but breach it too. Kuroi's eyes slowly drifted upwards, having only now noticed the bat resting snug against the woman's shoulder.

A flood of adrenaline rushed through Kuroi's veins, her senses heightening and fingers twitching as her fight instincts immediately kicked in. Her eyes scanned the room, looking for anything she could use should this situation start to get really messy. There were kendo sticks racked up neatly against the wall, a pair of nun chucks right beside them, and a ceremonial katana in it's sheath not to far away as well. A slow smile creeped up on Kuroi as her body slowly regained it's composure, muscles relaxing as the fighter straightened herself out. She had almost forgotten she had the greatest weapon of all at her disposal: Her body.

Kuroi slowly turned her back to Sheila, her nimble frame moving into a practiced stance. She didn't say anything, didn't need to. She simply lifted her leg, and with a fierce snap of her foot, kicked the training bag with enough force to send a lasting message. The impact echoed through the dojo, the sound of tearing fabric filling the air. Kuroi stood there as the bag split open, sand and stuffing spilling out and pooling onto the bamboo mats around her feet. She stood still, panting, with her back still turned to her rival.

"Is that what you came here for, Sheila?" Kuroi asked, her head titled ever so slightly towards her former opponent, "To pick a fight with me? 'Cause you'll lose bitch - again, and there ain't no ref here to say otherwise," she growled, her voice low and dangerous.

[BlackAkuma]

Sheila held her ground as Kuroi reacted to her intrusion, and she enjoyed the moment of sheer confusion that came across the fighter’s face. She was a little surprised, too, to see the woman still dressed in her fighting outfit, even though she’d just caught the woman at a dojo. Or dojang. Or whatever this place was supposed to be. It was a lot more modest than she’d expected, not the kind of place she would’ve pinned a woman like this to hang out. Way more basic and normal looking, not nearly enough blood splatters on the wall, and there was a disappointing lack of death metal being played on blast.

She took a moment to absorb it all, let the scenery sink in, before she brought the focus back to Kuroi. She spat off to the side and smirked. ”Catch you at a bad time?”

Come to think of it, what was she doing? Just wailing away on a punching bag all day? Seemed like a waste. Had to be a better way to use all that energy. Sheila never could wrap her head around these martial arts types - a lot of time and a lot of training. Fighting wasn’t all that complicated.

She slipped the bat of her shoulder, planting it on the floor, and leaned against it like a third leg, waiting as Kuroi looked about the room. At first she thought the woman might go for a weapon and make a move, something she was fully prepared for, but instead she just turned away, went back to the punching bag…and demolished.

Okay, that was a little impressive, sure. Sheila wasn’t going to acknowledge it, though. ”Hmph. Your equipment sucks.”

Sheila made her way around the dojo, dragging the bat by her side as she walked, never letting her gaze go far from her foe, always keeping her in the side eye. It was tempting to strike right now and go hammer and tongs, a fight that would end with both of them wrecked and bloody. She wanted that. She needed that. But, as much as it pained to admit, Kuroi had a point with her last few words, and it was one that she wasn’t about to let go.

”Okay, no pussyfooting.” She stopped and pointed the bat straight at Kuroi. ”Fuck that win. I’m not taking that shite on my record. So you want a fight, name your fight. Any match, any kind, and I’ll beat your arse the right way this time.

[BlackAkuma]

Sheila held her ground as Kuroi reacted to her intrusion, and she enjoyed the moment of sheer confusion that came across the fighter’s face. She was a little surprised, too, to see the woman still dressed in her fighting outfit, even though she’d just caught the woman at a dojo. Or dojang. Or whatever this place was supposed to be. It was a lot more modest than she’d expected, not the kind of place she would’ve pinned a woman like this to hang out. Way more basic and normal looking, not nearly enough blood splatters on the wall, and there was a disappointing lack of death metal being played on blast.

She took a moment to absorb it all, let the scenery sink in, before she brought the focus back to Kuroi. She spat off to the side and smirked. ”Catch you at a bad time?”

Come to think of it, what was she doing? Just wailing away on a punching bag all day? Seemed like a waste. Had to be a better way to use all that energy. Sheila never could wrap her head around these martial arts types - a lot of time and a lot of training. Fighting wasn’t all that complicated.

She slipped the bat of her shoulder, planting it on the floor, and leaned against it like a third leg, waiting as Kuroi looked about the room. At first she thought the woman might go for a weapon and make a move, something she was fully prepared for, but instead she just turned away, went back to the punching bag…and demolished.

Okay, that was a little impressive, sure. Sheila wasn’t going to acknowledge it, though. ”Hmph. Your equipment sucks.”

Sheila made her way around the dojo, dragging the bat by her side as she walked, never letting her gaze go far from her foe, always keeping her in the side eye. It was tempting to strike right now and go hammer and tongs, a fight that would end with both of them wrecked and bloody. She wanted that. She needed that. But, as much as it pained to admit, Kuroi had a point with her last few words, and it was one that she wasn’t about to let go.

”Okay, no pussyfooting.” She stopped and pointed the bat straight at Kuroi. ”Fuck that win. I’m not taking that shite on my record. So you want a fight, name your fight. Any match, any kind, and I’ll beat your arse the right way this time.

[PuroQueen]

A few seconds of silence passed before Kuroi let out a loud scoff. Despite the simmering tension, Kuroi couldn't suppress the feeble, inkling of respect beginning to brew in her mind. Sheila had dared to walk straight into her holy grounds, and judging by her bandages and wraps, far from peak condition. The fact that she was still breathing showed that Kuroi knew enough to keep her distance, master martial artist be damned, but the fact that Sheila was using that breath to challenge her spoke volumes about her resolve, or maybe her stupidity. The latter thought was enough to extinguish the kindling admiration, the sensation now replaced with nothing but hate.

"That kick works just as well on human flesh - I'd be happy to demonstrate" Kuroi whipped around, her face smug and secure with that same signature grin that had been used to greet her opponent the first time they had met in the ring. She just about delivered on the threat before Sheila stopped her with a surprising offer. Kuroi paused, cringing as Sheila's shoes and bat scraped along the handmade bamboo mats, but she quickly returned her attention to Sheila's toned curves, then her breasts, then that stupid, pretty face. Hate turned to lust.

"Oh-Oh, I know what this is about! You've come back for more, is that it?" Kuroi baited, her hands making it perfectly clear what she was alluding to. Her fingers had curled around her own breasts, molesting them in the exact same fashion she had Sheila only a few weeks prior. "I'm flattered that you remembered! I mean, I did bust your head open like a watermelon didn't I? Had you bleeding like a stuck pig - DIDN'T I!?" Kuroi let out a shrill cackle, the memory arousing a loud unhinged gargle. She stifled the crazed laughter with a loud sigh, matching Sheila's stride as the two circled each other around the dojo. "Lemme guess... you've been lonely since then, haven't you? Just you and your wet dreams about me keeping you up at night, wondering where or where could sweet ol Kuroi be..."

The fighter's mouth opened wide in a devious smile, already knowing full well what she wanted to challenge her opponent to. But this little mouse had wandered into her den, and right now, she wanted to play.

"So you tracked me down! How exactly, I'm not really how sure but - " Kuroi eyes glanced towards the windows in front of her, the sign posted outside the door swaying in the moonlight. The oni mask flipped and turned along with the whims of the wind before Kuroi's eyes slowly drifted down towards her own crotch, the exact same emblem brightly stitched straight and center on her attire. That resourceful little bitch

"- But it doesn't really matter, you've already fucked up by being here" Kuroi continued, playing off the realization with a heightened facetious inflection in her voice. "So let's seeee here, how about a... Exploding Wire Death Match!...No, too superfluous... Mud wrestling in a pit of vipers!... Ick, sounds like the kind of thing you'd do in whatever backwater you're from... " Kuroi pretended to ponder, tapping the tip of her chin with her fingertips while purposely testing Sheila's patience. "- How should Kuroi Kamikaze fuck up Sheila Morgan this time around..."

[BlackAkuma]

”Oh, it does? Really?” Sheila tilted her head to the side, only a few degrees. ”Guess you should’ve used that kick in our match, then, huh?”

As much as she liked to mock, she knew better than most just how devastating Kuroi’s kicks were. The woman was crazier than a shithouse rat, but that didn’t take away from her ability, firing off strikes that hit like electric triggers. She was fast, precise, and stronger than you’d guess from the size - a tough, fierce opponent, and one that would go on the attack at any second. As much as she wanted to finish things in a ring, she had to be ready for the fight to kick off unofficially, too. Anything could happen, and she didn’t need Kuroi reminding her about the blood to remember that. Though it did help.

It was lucky for her, then, that Kuroi seemed far more interested in hearing the sound of her own voice than fighting at the moment, though she knew the woman was more than capable of doing both if it came to it. For now, she stayed on her guard as they circled enough, staying just out of striking range.

The idea of exploding barbwire death match wasn’t too bad, though Sheila had seen firsthand how much that could get fucked up if you weren’t careful with the equipment. The last time she tried that, the fireworks had gone off too early, and it turned the ring into a deathtrap. You never really noticed how small a wrestling ring is until the ropes are covered in searing flames.

The mud wrestling match, though. ”No fucking way.” She threw her thumbs down. ”Matches with animals always suck. Always. And you can’t get anything done in mud, it gets boring after two minutes.”

She fought off a few long, unpleasant memories as Kuroi rattled on, clearly trying to push her buttons and test her patience. She succeeded.

”Look, bitch.” She stopped the pacing and stood there with her arms open and her chest out. ”You spent, like, a quarter of the match feeling me and getting your rocks off. You want me in some kind of hentai slash hardcore thing, probably the only way a nutjob like you can get any action. Fine. Spit out what you want, ‘cause neither of us do bloody foreplay.”

[PuroQueen]

Kuroi paused, her smile faltering as she heard Sheila non-nonchalantly dismiss what were supposed to be two curveball suggestions, as if the Australian had already tried, tested, and been bored with them several times throughout her brawler career. While she wasn't necessarily surprised to hear that Sheila had found herself fighting within the confines of an electrified barbed wire ring before, the other half of her was genuinely shocked to hear just how candidly the blonde spoke about wrestling with animals. Kuroi blinked her eyes hard, twice, returning her expression back into a menacing stare.

"Riiiight" Kuroi mumbled, her body recoiling at the very thought of rolling around in the mud with this skank. But Sheila wasn't keen to play along with her teasing much longer. By now Kuroi had made her way to the collection of martial arts weaponry that had adorned the wall, her finger running smoothly overtop their sheaths as she kept the intruder in suspense. Then Sheila delivered her retort, those special words that the unhinged fighter had been dying to hear this whole time. Slowly, Kuroi turned around, a sly smile across her lips as she sighed, disappointed that she had to cut the fun so soon, but even more excited to deliver the good news to her opponent.

"Beat your brains and blow your back out!? Oh Sheila, you do love me!" Kuroi squeaked, clasping her hands together in an unbefittingly ditsy fashion. Her gaze quickly hardened, a look of mischief in her eyes. "Hardcore Hentai it is babe! Buy you ain't getting off with me just fuckin' you, oh no." Kuroi violently shook her head, before daring to take a step towards Sheila. She was still out of arms reach, but close enough to lunge at the girl if she wanted to. "We gotta fight first. Pin, submission, KO, whatever the fuck. I do that first, then I claim that pussy of yours." Kuroi spat. She spoke as if the results of the match were already decided, as if she were narrating step by step how she would systematically break Sheila down, although the rules she described would apply to them both. "Ya hear me Sheila? I want you bleedin' all over again before I fuck you for real this time!... And one other thing. No... FUCKING... Disqualifications!" Kuroi's fist slammed into the thin wall, sending a cacophony of kendo sticks and Japanese artistry tumbling down on the mat below. She suddenly softened her gaze, returning her attention back to her former and soon to be future opponent.

"So whaddya say - Interested...? Wanna seal the deal, with a kiss perhaps?" Kuroi purred, taking another step towards her armed rival.

[BlackAkuma]

Sheila already had a good idea what Kuroi was going for. While the two of them were different in a lot of ways - their skills, their clothes, the fact that only one of them was a stark raving lunatic - she was willing to bet they were on the same wavelength when it came to matchups, and that last left them both unsatisfied. They’d been on the edge of fucking throughout, and the countouts had been stifling. Sheila was sure that if she’d been able to keep the fight outside the ring, her environment, that she would’ve come out on top. Not easy, sure, but it was her element, her world, her style. Kuroi might be able to hang better than most, but she’d get run over in the end.

Kuroi wanted to fuck and fight? Great. Sheila was more than happy to put her body on the line, in all sorts of ways.

She tilted her head to the side as Kuroi smacked the wall and sent her stuff flying, seemingly not caring about the mess she’d made with her little demonstration. She’d give the demoness one thing: she wasn’t subtle. Sheila didn’t have any patience for that coy shite, and it was refreshing to fight against someone who just laid it all out, even if she was a crazed cunt over it all.

”I could hear your loud arse from space, bitch.” She hefted the back up on her shoulders. ”Works fine for me. You want me, you’ll get more of me than you can handle, trust on that.”

That was that, then nothing much else to say. Sheila spun on her heel and was about to march out, knowing she’d have some calls to make in the morning, when Kuroi’s voice had her stopping short of the door. She looked back over her for a second, then turned back around in full with a quirked eyebrow, scanning Kuroi all over. A bluff? A trick? No, she was dead serious.

…fuck it.

Sheila thought it over for all of one and a half seconds, before she dropped the bat, marched forward, pushed into Kuroi, wrapped her arms around the woman’s neck and practically smashed their lips together in a passion-soaked, starving kiss. The tight hold, the wild lips, the grinding bodies, she gave her rival everything she wanted and more on top, all while she tried to push her towards the nearest wall.

[PuroQueen]

Upon seeing Sheila stop dead in her tracks after her sultry invitation, Kuroi couldn't help but hold her breath in anticipation. Her unwavering grin shone through, her lips peeking from between her teeth as she savored the tension-laced air. A loud clang interrupted the silence as the bat descended to the mats below. Sheila whipped around, her face unrevealing as she marched straight towards the martial artist.

For half a second, Kuroi's mind raced, thinking that her goading had finally tipped Sheila over the edge. Good. She was itching for a fight anyhow.

Except, Sheila was about to give her so much more. Kuroi's clenched fists burst back open as the woman threw herself all over her, her arms wrapped tight around Kuroi's body with an embrace befitting of the brawler's strength. Kuroi gasped, wide-eyed as their lips were forcefully mashed together, the bittersweet taste of sweat and libido seeping into her unprepared mouth.

Slowly, Kuroi's eyes relaxed into flutters, a deep growl of pleasure escaping between their mangled lips. All this time, Kuroi had been brazen about her lust, overtly mocking Sheila with every contrived and salacious manner at her disposal. But only now did she feel herself truly entranced by desire, unable, or perhaps, unwilling to peel herself away from the woman who so thoroughly commanded her senses. Kuroi nearly lost her footing as she was driven into the nearby wall with a loud grunt. She had been waiting for this moment for what felt like ages. The tension between them had been building for so long that Kuroi could hardly contain herself any longer. Her heart pounded in her chest as she wrapped one arm tightly around Sheila’s waist, the other circling around her neck until her fingertips were within the grasp of her opponent's hair, using the silky locks to pull the blonde even closer. It was a fight of a different kind, but one Kuroi was just as eager to prove her mettle in.

As their tongues clashed, Kuroi felt a surge of power flow through her. She rubbed her body against the woman's, thighs clipping at each other's nether regions. This was exactly what she needed to fuel her for the fight ahead, and she knew that for Sheila, it was probably the same. They indulged in each other's form and taste with little regard for their disorderly surroundings, the private affair a mere sampling of the public ravaging and destruction that was soon to come.

It was hard to say who broke the kiss first, but pretty soon, their lungs' demands for oxygen became too incessant to ignore. Kuroi looked deeply into Sheila’s eyes, her breaths coming out in loud gasps through her disheveled grin. “Mhmm...! So that's what I have to look forward to, huh? Thanks for the free sample, babe," Kuroi cooed, moments before her eyes took on a fiery gleam. She leaned back against the wall, nothing less than a sneer of utter contempt on her face, attempting to hide her flustered posture behind a mask of cold composure. "Now get the fuck out of here, cunt. If you ever step foot in this dojo again... I'll kill you," Kuroi spat matter-of-factly, breaking off their tight-knit bodies with a harsh shove at Sheila's shoulder.