L.A.W. - League of Anime Wrestling

It was early that morning when Tris Harper slipped through the doors of the Tokyo gym, doing her best to keep a low profile.

That might come as a surprise to some who knew her but, when it came to her training, the redhead preferred to keep herself to herself. She was there to improve her skills, not to be a show-off or a turn-on.

Thus her red hair was done up in a tight braid then looped round her head in a braid reminiscent of a certain Disney princess and she wore only the barest touches of makeup. Her outfit was similarly low key, an oversized, well-worn black t-shirt (proclaiming ‘Thick thighs, thin patience’) that fell past her hips and a pair of equally comfy workout shorts stretched taut across her amply curving haunches. Simple socks and workout shoes completed the outfit.

Just another gym babe there for her daily workout, like plenty of others.

Which was another reason why she’d chosen not to use the LAW gym. For one thing, Tris didn’t like making it easy for people to learn all her tricks. Sure, there was tape on her out there, both her handful of LAW matches and all her bouts back in Blighty, but there was a difference between that and getting to watch her at work in person.

No free samples for you, losers.

Ten minutes of light warmup followed, chiefly the sort of light cardio work that left her mind free to wander, before Tris found herself drifting over to the gymnastics mats in a quiet corner of the already quiet gym.

She started with the basics, stretching her body out, enjoying the familiar pull of muscles loosening as she ran through a routine so familiar she could have followed it in her sleep. The noise of the gym faded away into background static behind her, Tris’ focus narrowing entirely to her immediate surroundings.

Dipping into a wide straddle, she leant forward until her chest was pressed to the mats, then shifted—drawing one leg forward, sliding the other back—until her hips settled flat in full front splits, breathing steady, those dangerous thighs framing a perfect line from hip to heel.

But, seemingly introspective or not, she was never so distracted that she didn’t know when she was being watched.

Alicia Soto had clocked the redhead the moment she walked through the gym doors.

Not that she made a habit of studying everyone who came in - most mornings she could give two shits about the parade of fitness influencers and salary workers going through their routines. But whenever she dragged herself all the way out here instead of using the LAW campus gyms, it was because she wanted privacy. Space to think without running into someone from the roster who'd want to chat or spar or ask her opinion on some bullshit. And that meant she noticed when other wrestlers showed up in her space.

The redhead couldn't be mistaken for anything else. Not with hips and thighs like that.

Alicia had gone back to her routine after that initial assessment, loading up the leg press machine with enough weight to make the casual gym-goers do double-takes. Her massive thighs flexed and popped with each rep, muscles straining against the resistance as she pushed through her sets. The burn felt good. Gave her something to focus on besides the question currently eating at her brain: what the fuck was Gabriella doing on the nights when Alicia couldn't reach her by phone? Her sister had never had such an active nightlife back home that she wouldn't answer a text.

She powered through another set, sweat beading on her forehead and dampening the blue-green sports bra that struggled to contain her chest, one matching the slight briefs she wore - they had been billed as shorts but became briefs on her thighs all too quickly. Her legs burned, but she welcomed it. Physical pain was simple. Straightforward. Unlike trying to figure out how to tell her nosy little sister that she needed to be careful about-

Movement in her peripheral vision pulled her attention sideways. The redhead had moved closer - not to Alicia, just to a different section of the gym - and now Alicia could see what her oversized shirt said.

A huff of genuine amusement escaped before she could stop it. Alright, her kind of person. The irony of them both being here, two thick-thighed wrestlers hiding out among the regular fitness crowd, wasn't lost on her.

But Alicia went back to her workout, knocking out another few sets while her mind wandered back to Gabby, to Dizzy. She was so deep in thought that she almost missed when the redhead moved again, this time to the gymnastics mats in the corner.

Almost.

As Alicia started her cooldown - some light stretching that her tight muscles desperately needed after punishing them - her eyes drifted over to watch. The other woman had begun a stretching routine, and it was... impressive. Really fucking impressive, actually. She moved through poses with the kind of ease that came from years of practice, her body bending in ways that made Alicia's own flexibility look amateur by comparison, even with their body types having some similarities. Thighs that thick spread that far? The Hollywood Hottie didn't want to try it. That was Gabby's domain, and Gabby's thighs were half the size of this woman's.

She finished her stretch and straightened up, grabbing her water bottle and taking a long drink while she considered. She could just leave. Go back to her apartment, shower, try to catch Gabby before her sister disappeared for the day again. Mind her own business like she'd come here to do.

Or...

Alicia wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and started walking toward the gymnastics mats. Casual. Like she was just moving through the gym, not specifically approaching. She stopped a respectful distance away - close enough to talk without shouting, far enough not to be in the other woman's space.

"Most thighs shaped like those don't split like that," she said, her husky voice carrying just enough to be heard. Simple. Direct. A compliment that could be taken at face value or as an opening, depending on how the redhead wanted to play it. "Mine don't."

Spoiler

Tris had something of a sixth sense when it came to being watched. It wasn’t something she could rely on but, more often than not, she just knew when people had their eyes on her.

It was just this little tingle down her spine, a thrill most pronounced when she was whirling on the pole, dancing her heart out or tapping some bitch out on the mats and Tris knew everyone was staring at her.

She’d been getting that little tingle ever since she walked into this gym.

Someone was watching her.

Tris just smiled to herself and kept at her workout. If some fitness dude (or dudette) wanted to appreciate the goods from a safe distance, it was no skin off her nose. Hell, maybe she wouldn’t mind the distraction if whoever it was mustered up the nerve to come a little closer.

But as the minutes ticked by, it became clear that her admirer was happy to watch from afar. Or so Tris thought until, near face down on the mats, she became aware of someone coming her way. First it was just that nagging little tickle, then it was the quiet slap of feet coming closer, closer…

She looked up. And up – even as far away as the other woman’d stopped, Tris’ eyes had a long, long way to climb before they found her visitor’s face. Tall. Hot too and, unlike Tris, she wasn’t even making the barest attempt to hide it not that the redhead was judging. If you’d got it, flaunt it and, like Tris herself, the tall, tanned brunette had ‘it’ in spades.

All in all, it made for a very intriguing package to find in a Tokyo gym.

It might make another woman wonder why she was over here, but Tris knew she was just as intriguing a specimen to find here. At least, it didn’t seem like it was some territorial spat waiting to happen…

But, whatever she’d been thinking, it wasn’t what the other said.

It was on the tip of Tris’ tongue to offer to ‘help’ the tall brunette with that. Sure, the big girl wouldn’t be walking straight for a while afterwards, Tris’ grapevines had that effect on people, but she’d spread bigger out until they’d begged for mercy.

She bit it back.

Not out of fear. No, she was intrigued. Maybe a little bored. Definitely curious where this might go.

“Pole dancing,” She answered the implicit question, casually tossing her hair out of her eyes as she sat up, those big, pale thighs still splayed wide on the mats, “Gymnastics. Natural born awesome. Take your pick.”