The Hardest Thing To Do

Two cracked ribs. A small fracture in her skull. A black eye with some minor corneal damage, whatever that meant. Oh, and her neck felt like she'd sleeping the wrong way all night.

Kozue sat in the back, unwrapping her leggings while she stayed out of the crew's way, looking over the doctor's list of injuries. Considering how some women came out of matches involving King, she felt she'd gotten off good. Hell, better than good - how many people could say they didn't just beat King, but they managed to leave the ring with him unconscious inside of it? She had a depressingly small list of things she could be proud of, but joining the 'I Pinned King' club was right at the top.

Of course, it hadn't been all her. It hadn't even been mostly her. Johnny did all the heavy lifting, in every way those works meant. She'd contributed, but there was no question who carried that match. He went up against the biggest bruiser the league had to offer, and he put him down clean. King was dethroned. He might still get some fear, of course, but after the hurting Johnny gave him, he'd look a lot more vulnerable. They couldn't kick King out of the AFW, but just accomplishing that was a good start.

Of course, Johnny had messed it up a little at the end by assuming that King was going to be a sportsman about the whole thing. Maybe because he'd taken one too many hits to the head, maybe because he was just so nice guy that he didn't realize the real world was not like a Pokemon cartoon. Kozue groaned just thinking about it - the sound Johnny made when he down, the look in his eyes...why didn't he wear a cup? We didn't any of the Tension guys wear cups? Would it be weird if she bought him a cup for Christmas?

Yes. Yes, it would.

But that all brought her to the thing that was bothering her most - she didn't like it, she didn't want to admit it, but the fact of the matter was that, if Taylor hadn't shown up, King probably would done some very bad things to them both. Sure, she did it for Johnny more than anything. But that didn't change the fact that Kozue owed the New Yorker her thanks. And an apology. And on top of it all, Kozue needed to ask a favor.

A drink. All the sudden, she really wanted a drink.

"Fuck." She cursed under her breath and leaned back in the chair, stuffing the report in a gym bag at her side. She pulled out her shorts and slipped them on, throwing on a black 'Ninjas Do It Stealthily' t-shirt, with two beady eyes peering out under the logo and a few shurikens scattered around the front. Not that she cared too much about walking around in her ring outfit, but wearing some normal clothes would help her calm down, which she needed right now. She had a lot of pride to swallow.

Shaking her head, she grabbed the bag and started searching for Taylor Parker.

Johnny didn't have a choice in the matter, he was getting looked after by the medical staff, if only to be sure he was as okay as he said he was. After depositing him at the infirmary, Taylor went off to the women's locker room to find Bree.

The hallways were like those in the Friction building, but different enough to remind her that she was in an unfamiliar version of a familiar place. Her blonde pigtails sweat-stuck to her bare shoulders and the back of her neck, and her skin was still clammy with sweat from the stress of the match. She moved with a physical confidence that was almost boyish, though the curves of her body in her skin-tight jeans and snug, black "Hard and Fast" tank top, and the gentle sway of her hips as she walked, gave her an undeniable femininity. Her body was solid, slim, and defined, impressively so, and her every move seemed easy, as if she were lighter than air. Her indigo eyes, hard and intense, sent a message.

Do not fuck with me.

Not tonight, anyway. She was in no mood to deal with bullshit. The soles of her ruby-colored Doc's squeaked slightly between each step on the tile floor on her way to the lockers. She pushed open the door, rounded a corner, and before she could even begin to look for the cat-girl she found herself face to face with someone else, a busted-up version of a New Jersey wannabe-ninja, mercifully clad in street clothes. She stopped in front of her, and eyed her cautiously while she decided if she was going to bother. She wasn't in the mood to trade insults with the girl.

"You wanted to talk, right?" She said, and put her bandaged right hand on her hip. "Go for it. Is it about Johnny?"

It wasn't too hard to find Taylor, really. All Kozue had to do was follow the uneasy looks, and sure enough, she ran into Friction's #1 contender, looking very much like all she needed was a good reason to stick her boot in someone's ass.

Kozue stopped dead in her tracks and gave Taylor about the same look she was throwing out, looking her over as best she could with her blood-red gimp-eye. She didn't look like she was in the mood for crap, which was fine, since Kozue was fresh out of it. Somewhere between getting her head scissored by a catgirl and getting body-slammed by the missing link, she'd lost her good humor for the day. All in all, she was damn tired, and the last thing she needed the NY tough-bitch act.

"Yeah, it's about Johnny. Sort of. Not just that, though." She tugged the gym bag up a bit higher on her shoulder and folded her arms. "First thing." She closed her eyes and sagged. "Sorry about flipping you off, back there."

Taylor breathed a laugh and raised an eyebrow at the little ninja. "Yeah, whatever," she said dismissively. "Believe it or not, I'll get over it. I already know you're a bitch, but if you're tagging with Johnny I'd rather you be that than a pussy. You can flip off whoever you want as long as you fight."

And there was more? What else did they have to talk about? Did she want to kiss and make up? Talk about her feelings? Ask about a three-way? Taylor glanced around for any sign of Bree. She didn't want to miss her, but she was betting she came to the locker room after the match, and to get out she'd have to walk past her.

"Something else?"

"Oh, I got permission. That's nice, thanks." Kozue rolled her eyes to the ceiling, not the least bit surprised at the response. She didn't really care all that much about getting all huggy-huggy with Taylor Parker, but it was good to get that off her conscience. It would make asking for the next thing easier, anyway.

"But yeah, there was 'something else'." She sighed and looked back down, bring their eyes back to the same level. As close as she could get with the height difference, anyway. "I..." Kozue stopped and cocked her eyebrow, following Taylor's glance. She seemed preoccupied, and it wasn't just the fact that neither of them wanted to be in the same room. Or the same arena. Or country. Or planet. "What? You looking for something?"

"Yeah," Taylor replied while looking down toward the lockers. "Bree. She's probably off hiding from King or something. I don't know how it works when they lose a match. I don't really want to know, I just want to catch her before he does."

She looked back at Ninjette. "C'mon, you said you wanted to talk, and here we are. What are we talking about?"

That was a fair point - Kozue didn't get the feeling Bree and King had what you'd call a healthy relationship. Given the way he treated women he only had to spend ten or so minutes with, she couldn't imagine what it would be like living around the guy. Or maybe she just didn't want to.

Kozue shrugged and looked back at the locker room - she didn't remember seeing Bree in there, but if she was hiding, that would follow. "Haven't seen her, but shit, ask around. She kinda sticks out, can't be that hard to find."

She swerved around her flip-flops and steeled herself, rubbing her forehead. There was no easy way to ask this, so Kozue simply let it go. "Training." It almost sounded like a curse, the way she said it. "I need you to train me." She tried to put as little annoyance into that sentence as possible, but even still, a few hints slipped in.

"Yeah."

And then Ninjette got to the point. Taylor could imagine many of the things that would make her ask such a thing. Taylor was fierce, her husband was sexy, and King was a problem. She hoped it had more to do with the last one, or the first.

She knitted up her brow and kept eye contact. "Yeah?"

It wasn't a 'no', or a 'fuck you', or just a long, drawn out, obnoxious laugh, so it was better than Kozue was expecting. Still. More than one syllable for a response would have been nice.

"Yeah." Kozue blinked, twice, and evened her eyebrows out as she stared back at Taylor."'Yeah', what? What is 'yeah'? I can't read you all that well, help me out."

"Oh, come on. I'm an open book."

Taylor turned and strode into the depths of the Tension underbelly. She maneuvered around cockeyed wrestler girls and brushed off their appraising looks. She held her head high, her shoulders back, her chest out, and walked with a swagger like she had nothing to fear from anyone.

"Bree?" She called, and rounded a corner. "Breeee? Heere, Kitty Kitty. I wanted to talk to ya before I left. Are you still around?"