A Hard Night's Rest [For Daaharu]

Carmen couldn't think of anything to say. She couldn't even remember the last time that happened. She didn't like to think of herself as a motormouth, and while she had no problem speaking her mind, she tried to keep from rambling whenever possible. She said what she needed to say and just moved on.

Lorenza was a special case, though. She felt like there was something she needed to say, something snappy. Witty and to the point. Something that would get her sister laughing. Some way to express her gratitude and tell Lorenza how she really felt. Like this was a movie, and they just had the climax, and now they were winding down to the credits scene. That was when the best dialogue happened, when the resolution dropped.

But this wasn't a movie, Carmen didn't have a script, and there wasn't any music to set the mood. She just had to go natural.

She snapped back to reality after Lorenza tapped the can, turning to her sister and staring at her for a moment. She sipped the rest of the can before tossing it away into the trashbin across the room. Two points. Then she looked straight ahead and finally spoke.

"I need to ask you a question. And it's a personal question, and you can tell me to fuck off if you want, but I've got to ask it." Her voice was low as the words spilled out, whispering, even though she doubted the police outside would care enough to slip an ear in. "Why did you leave boxing? Where'd you go?" Her tone was like an abandoned spouse, hurt and confused. It was a question she'd wanted to ask for so long.

"

Lorenza waited, turning to look into Carmenâ€s eyes as her hermana stared at her. It took a few seconds, but Carmen did finally speak. Lorenza didnâ€t move as she listened to Carmenâ€s question. It had nothing to do with what had just happened with that sadistic Russian nurse. It was about her past. Their past.

“I went home. For a while. I stayed home. I still went to the gym, still kept training, but I wasnâ€t training for anything. I just kept training because Iâ€ve never known how to live any differently,” she answered. She took another gulp of her Coke. There was still a little bit of it left in the can, and she shook the metal canister back and forth, listening to the liquid slosh around inside. “And then I came here. Because…”

She trailed off. This was a confusing topic even within her own mind. Explaining it would be difficult. “I quit because I was being a baby. I knew, before our match, that I was the best in the world. After our match, I didnâ€t know. I always won by knockout. Our split decision…it didnâ€t feel like a victory. So I thought, oh, if Iâ€m not the best in the world…” She shrugged, and took the last sip of her Coke. “…maybe I shouldnâ€t even bother trying.”

“Maybe I was also sort of thinking that, oh, if I quit now, Iâ€ll always be the best in the world.” She tossed her can into the trash bin on top of Carmenâ€s. “But then I got bored…or, no, not bored. I got…I wanted to prove that I was the best in the world. That I was still the best in the world. Fight differently, not in boxing, you know. If I beat all the women here, then I would be the best, right? I think thatâ€s what I thought.”

She sighed, gripping at her knees with both hands. She shook her head ruefully. “Iâ€m stupid, you know. So stupid. Such a baby, eh?”

Carmen listened and understood. She got the feeling she was one of the few people who could ever hope to do both.

It was relieving to know that this woman could understand how she felt, that she wasn't alone. That feeling of lose in victory, that nagging little push off the pedestal, she'd been there. She'd asked herself similar questions. She had trained for this her whole life, waiting for an opportunity to go the distance against a truly great opponent, but the moment it came, she choked, and she had to live with that.

Carmen was quiet for a moment after Lorenza spoke, then just lean to the side and laid her head on Lorenza's shoulder, resting on her rival's sturdy shoulder. It felt right. It was comfortable. Lorenza smelled vaguely of blueberries, though that might have been her imagination.

"No, not a baby. I can do worse." She let out a long sigh, blow some of Lorenza's hair from her face."I hated you for a while after you left. Seriously hated you. I felt robbed, like you'd taken something away from me. I just, I didn't have any closure. I was still ranked high, I could have gotten another title shot, maybe even won, but it wouldn't be you. It wouldn't be right. I didn't want to fight anyone else, it was just you. But I couldn't find you. Your were just..." She held up her hand and let her fingers flutter. "...gone."

She scooted up on the bed, joining Lorenza all the way up there like two peas in a pod, body's close. She wouldn't get this close to her own brother, but with her it felt normal. Natural.

"You were - you are the best. And I always wanted to fight the best. I've never been really that good at much anything else. I'm a good cook, but it's not like I'm opening a business or anything anytime soon. I'm a fighter. My Dad was a fighter. That's what Rodriguezs do, they fight. And we finish our fights." Her voice hardened, as she repeated words she'd said to herself hundreds of time. "I have to finish it. It's in my blood."

Lorenza was surprised when Carmen laid her head on her shoulder, but she didnâ€t mind it at all. She felt perfectly comfortable being close to Carmen, even though the two of them really didnâ€t know each other very well at all. She sighed, her head tilting to the side, resting against Carmenâ€s soft brown hair. She listened as Carmen told her story. When the Puerto Rican was finished, Lorenza would sit quietly for a few seconds, and would then say: “I…I understand. Itâ€s in my blood, too. I donâ€t know what Iâ€d be if I wasnâ€t a boxer. Probably…Iâ€d probably be dead.”

One of her hands slid to the left, moving from her own knee onto Carmenâ€s. She patted it slowly. “Iâ€m sorry. Very sorry. It makes sense that you hated me. I was a baby. I ran away because I thought I might not be the best in the world…because I thought I might be getting worse. I was getting old, and soon I would have to quit, and maybe I would end up back where I started before I was a boxer, on the streets of Tijuana. Running around like a fucking rat. The idea that I wasnâ€t getting old—that you were as good as me because you were just as good a boxer as I was—wasnâ€t on my mind back then.”

Her other hand, which was still on her own knee, squeezed it tightly. “I was such a bitch. A stupid bitch. Iâ€m sorry, Carmen.”

'If I wasn't a boxer, I'd probably be dead'. It was a sobering statement, but Carmen couldn't lie and say she didn't see the sense in it.

"You're a bitch, but you're not old. If you were old then, then I'm old now, and I'm still way too young to retire." Carmen managed a slight laugh, letting some of her humor creep back in. It felt good to laugh, after all that. "And I'm a bitch, too. Not stupid, though. You can own that."

She started to give Lorenza a playful punch, then remember she probably couldn't even take that right now. She settled for a pat on the stomach, feeling those diamond-hard abs with a rub. "Nice. But yeah." She pulled back and folded her arms. "It's who we are. It's who I am. And I don't regret it, I don't regret that energy, if I didn't have when Nadya was on me, I don't..." She clenched her fist tight, refused to finish the sentence. She was okay, now, she didn't have to think about that. Lorenza was here. They were safe.

"I was at this party a week or so before the fight, hung out with some Friction girls and got a little tipsy, and the whole time I'm having fun and partying, but at the back of my mind I'm sizing them up. I can't not see them as opponents, on some level. I can't stop thinking of how I'd go against them, 24/7. I can tell that voice to be quiet, but it never goes away, and it's why I just can't let this thing between us go."

She pulled away and shuffled over a bit, looking her over. "I'm sitting here, and I'm looking you over, and I know, I know I owe you something I can never repay, here. But at the same time, I still want to fight you. I want to hurt you. I want to know whether I really have what it takes to beat you or I'm just not good enough, and I don't even really care if I come up short in the end, just so long as I know what the answer is." She put her hands at her side and balled up the sheets in her palms. "And I hate that about myself, but there it

Lorenza laughed at Carmenâ€s teasing. It hurt her to laugh like that, but she didnâ€t care. It made her feel good all the same. So did the way Carmen patted her stomach.

She nodded when Carmen spoke of the energy which they were naturally possessed of as world-class boxers. “Yeah, the energy. I donâ€t regret it, either, just because the energy can give you such a rush, make you feel on top of the world…but…”

She trailed off, falling silent and letting Carmen speak. She nodded again, then kept nodding throughout Carmenâ€s explanation, her head brushing up and down, up and down against Carmenâ€s head, which was still laying on her shoulder. “Yes,” Lorenza replied, “yes, I know exactly what you mean. I feel the same way when I look at women—any woman. And I know what you mean when you say you want to know if you can beat me, because I wanted to know the same thing tonight. If I could beat you. Not just beat you, but beat you, you know. That question made me crazy while I was retired. I canâ€t let it go, either, and even if I could, I donâ€t know if I want to.” Lorenza sighed.

“So, were you happy with the match tonight? You won, you know. So how do you feel now?” Lorenza tilted her head a bit to look into Carmenâ€s eyes, wondering what her response would be.

Carmen opened her mouth, starting to form a 'yes', but she cut it off before she could finish that small word. Was she happy with it, really?

It was a good fight. It was a great fight. It was probably the best of her career, rivaled only by the first fight with Lorenza. Some fighters went their whole careers and never went the distance with anyone, she'd been privileged enough to do it twice in a row. Could she really fault the whole fight because of the decision at the end? It was like watching an excellent movie, then calling it trash because the last few minutes had a terrible plot twist that just messed up the whole film. Was that fair?

"Yes and no." She shrugged. That was a shit answer, but there it was. "I love fighting with you, always do. But I want closure. Want a real end, don't want to have it decided by some guy sitting in a booth. I don't blame the game for being what it is, judges have to do what they do, but I'm tired of questions. Life's too short and there's too many fucked up things out there." She threw her hands in the direction of her last room.

She stared back into Lorenza's grey eyes. "So those are the cards. How do you want to deal with them? We can't just keep boxing each other to death, that's not getting us anywhere."

Lorenza almost disagreed on Carmenâ€s last point. Why couldnâ€t they keep boxing each other forever? It was fun, and sooner or later one of them would at last earn that elusive decisive victory over the other.

But, no, Carmen was right on that point. They were too evenly matched in the ring, and if they fought each other even once or twice more any decisive knockout victory would quickly lose the value that it might have had had it occurred in their first or second bout. That wouldnâ€t solve the problem gnawing at the two of them—the desperate need for closure—any more than another split decision or a draw would.

Lorenza was at a loss. She shrugged her shoulders. “I donâ€t know how to get closure if itâ€s not in the ring,” she replied. “For me…for me this match actually made me feel a little better. I can lose, I guess, so now I know that Iâ€m not invincible. But it was another split decision, and, really, the same way I donâ€t feel like I won the first one, it doesnâ€t really feel like I lost the second…”

She balled a hand into a fist and hit it on the bed. “Ugh, I donâ€t know. How do we get closure for this? Does one of us really need to earn a decisive victory that ends all doubt? Could we find closure if we are still equal?” She was asking herself as much as she was asking Carmen.

"I really don't feel like I won it, either. I sure as hell don't look like I won anything." That was the nagging question. What to do, what to do? Was the thought of being equal to someone else really that bad?

"I wouldn't hate being equal to Lorenza Saldano, with her blue hair and her funny tattoos." She stretched her leg out and gave Lorenza a poke in the thigh with her big toe. "If that's what we are, fine. But I want to know for sure. The only way to do that is just remove everything - no cutmen, no time limits, no judges, no other factors. Take all that away and just go at each. That's what I think."

She cracked her knuckles, making plans, imagining the fight in her head. The ultimate fight. The fight to end all fights. A war.

"Let's just pick a time and a place and go at each other with everything we've got for as long as we can go. Just you and me, maybe some cameras, no referee in sight." It was a risky proposition - in fact, it was a bit crazy, especially for her. They were both boxers, but unlike Lorenza, Carmen's fighting had been solely in the ring. She'd never actually fought in the street, in a world without rules...it would be an interesting change, and it might very well cost her a few teeth and a loss. But she was willing to take risks, for this.

Lorenza smirked as Carmen poked her leg with a big toe and pointed out her distinctive physical traits. “And I wouldnâ€t hate being equal to Carmen Rodriguez,” Lorenza replied, “with all her…your…damn, chica, you need to get a tattoo.” Lorenza laughed once, then would be quiet as Carmen laid out her plan for another fight between them. Not a boxing match, not even a wrestling match—just a fight. A brawl. A war.

She imagined the fight. It would be just like all the fights she used to have in Tijuana—brutal, bloody, no holds barred and no punches pulled. Only this time it wouldnâ€t be against some punk-ass daughter of the neighborhood butcher. It would be against another professional fighter, someone who Lorenza considered a friendly rival. It had been a long time since she had fought like that, but she had to agree with Carmen. If they wanted to know for sure where they stood in relation to each other, they would have to go at it without any cutmen, any judges—or any rules.

“Okay,” Lorenza agreed, nodding her head. “That works for me. Only way we can figure it out. But itâ€ll take us a while to get back into fighting shape, eh?”