Anne Sachman vs. Lorenza Saldano

Lorenza dove in fast, keeping her eyes on Anne, noticing that, rather than backing up, rather than going on the defensive, Anne came right at her, moving in almost like a mirror image of Lorenza herself. Lorenza would stick to the plan, feinting, then throwing a rapid string of jabs into Anne's gut. They connected, jolting the muay thai champion again and again, but before Lorenza could bring those gloves up to guard, Anne threw a haymaker right into her exposed face.

Lorenza let out a muffled, gurgling cry as the force of the blow almost made her spit out her mouthpiece. Her body turned almost a full one hundred and eighty degrees as she would start to stumble backwards, trying desperately to remain standing on legs that felt like noodles. She kept on stumbling. She felt herself losing her balance, and she began to fall forward...only the ropes, which she managed to lunge forward and entangle her arms in, saved her from being knocked to the canvas in her own round.

Fuck. FUCK, Lorenza screamed in her head, as she clung desperately to the ropes, trying to shake her head and stop it from spinning so fast. Whatever else happened, she was not going to be knocked down in her own round. Not a chance. But she knew that if she let go of the ropes, she would fall. Even with them in her grasp, she could feel her right leg slipping, slipping, threatening to come out from underneath her...

The bell rang. It was a sound of both salvation and humiliation for the Tijuana Tigress.

Fuck! she said again in her head. Then, she spit out her mouthguard and repeated it, loudly: "Fuck!" Being saved by the bell in her own round. Anne had gotten her good there, and Lorenza's cheeks were burning with embarrassment. Anne was winning this match so far, all things considered. Slowly, Lorenza would pull herself up, steadying herself as she got to her feet.

As soon as she felt able, she would whip around to glare at her opponent, marching forward to meet Anne in the center of the ring again, trying to push her forehead into Anne's to eliminate the space between them and stare her down as the AFW staff members brought in the equipment they would need for the next round.

She got her. She frickin' got her. Like an almost-mirror to that final scene in their first round, Lorenza stumbled and Lorenza looked to the ropes for comfort. There was a searing pain in Anne's belly now, one she knew wouldn't really go away for the rest of the match, but at the moment triumph made her ignore it, triumph pushed her forward into a rush towards the exposed Lorenza, aiming to deliver a blow she would never quite recover fro-

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELL!

FUCKIN' BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELL.

Anne's muffled growl of anguish didn't quite come through. She spat out the mouthguard into her hands, as that her frustration slowly warped into a bitter, bitter laugh. She clutched her stomach, and laughed so hard there were tears in her eyes, mingling with the dried blood caked around her nose. Twice she had her, and twice she was robbed by her new arch enemy. Lorenza wasn't the opponent here, it was that evil bitch fuck whore slut bell-kun, who conspired against-

It occurred to her at that moment that maybe Lorenza might have hit her too many times in the head. It also occurred, perhaps faintly, that Lorenza might have chosen to taken her laughing fit the wrong way. And when Lorenza did impress upon her the offense she took via forehead to forehead staredown, Anne realized she did not care. She hated her at the moment. There was nothing not-personal about this fight. She walked into this match expecting to be star-struck, and now she just hated everything the bitch did.

Don't meet your heroes, right?

And so she laughed straight into her face. "Saved by the bell twice?" she said, between chortles. "Is this how the tiger wins her fights?"

Lorenza got up real close, pressing her sweaty forehead against Anne's, staring deeply into Anne's eyes, her own eyes alight with intense, quiet fury. She was waiting for Anne to back down again, or show some weakness. Though she had gotten in a good lick right at the end there, that second round had otherwise been all Lorenza's. She hadn't expected Anne to get uppity over the course of those first two rounds. But that was exactly what had happened.

And the stupid fucking kid laughed in Lorenza's face. That was almost enough to make Lorenza sucker punch her right there. But the former boxing champion held back. She knew better than that. She had known several opponents, all far inferior to herself, who loved to trash talk like this. Still, the Tigress's confidence was a little shaken.

"You keep talk, talk, talking, chica," Lorenza would reply, keeping her words calm and measured. "No matter what you say, I won't be able to take you seriously. Not because of this"—Lorenza would motion towards Anne's face with her blood-stained glove, indicating the dried red fluid covering much of Anne's face—"but because of this." She would lower her glove and pucker her lips, making smooching noises and reminding Anne of what she had done right at the beginning of the match.

She glanced over at the AFW staff girls as they set up the chess board on a table in the exact center of the ring. Another staffer brought in two chairs. Soon enough, the referee would walk over to the two of them, indicating for the fighters to take their gloves off and make their way over to the chess board.

Lorenza may not have known it, but she managed to hit all the right buttons within that one sentence. Anne was still hitting herself in the back of that mind over that little kiss - but that was secondary. What really grinded her was the idea that Lorenza had completely discounted the beatdown she had delivered, and by extension, her skills based on that one, single gesture. It hurt, it really did, and that hurt translated to rage. Anne stopped laughing very suddenly, her eyes quickly taking on the same quiet, smoldering rage that was reflected back in the Tiger's eyes. The transition was a little eerie.

"You're a relic." Anne said, her voice low and venomous. Yup, no hugs at the end of this match - assuming both girls were still conscious. Anne knew she was going straight for the knockout now, and not even for completely for the sake of seeing Lorenza on her back. What did the AFW know about judging boxing and Muay Thai anyway? She wasn't giving the decision to them. "You're a fossil from an outdated, restrictive sport that's giving way to the new world. You wanna hit me for that? Well, best not use your legs for it, you might trip over yourself." Anne wanted so badly to spit in her face then. Instead, she pushed harder into Lorenza, hoping to force her back a step. "You're the Carano of boxing, tiger cub - You ran the fuck away when it needed you the most."

"Girls-" It was the ref's voice calling them, as much for the start of the next round as it was breaking up the soon-to-be-fight.

Lorenza had long regretted her decision to walk away from her sport, even without prodding from an impetuous little girl like Anne. Every time she thought of those two years that she had wasted, reacting to her first match against Carmen Rodriguez as if she were a stupid, stupid toddler throwing a hissy fit, Lorenza felt a dark, sinking feeling in her stomach. It was an easy button to press, and Anne was hammering away at it as hard as she could.

The boxer would let out a long, annoyed breath, blowing air over Anne’s face as the other fighter continued to talk. “I’ve heard it all before. Blah, blah, blah blah blah. Yeah, I’ve made mistakes in my life, but so has everyone. And you just made the biggest fucking mistake of your life stepping into the ring with me tonight, mi chica pequeña.”

It was all Lorenza could do not to start wailing on Anne again. When the muay thai champion pushed her forehead harder against Lorenza’s, Lorenza pushed back hard, grinding her head against Anne’s, standing her ground. They pressed against each other until the referee called, the official moving in smoothly to encourage them to sit down and get ready for the next round. Slowly, reluctantly, Lorenza peeled her forehead away from Anne’s, and, keeping her eyes on her opponent the whole time, walked back towards the chess board and sat down on her side.

"I don't know what that means in the language of invalids, but you've got it backwards, lady."

The more Lorenza pushed back, the more Anne returned the favor. In light of the spat, the chess round seemed even more superfluous than ever. Anne wanted to beat her in the boxing round that came after, wanted to hurt her until she was a quivering mess on the ground. She saw how Lorenza reacted to a mere flash knockdown in this round, and aimed to do so much more. When Lorenza backed off first, Anne took it as a small victory as she likewise went to her seat, her eyes still locked with the Tiger's. The referee went to unlace her gloves for her first; she played white, she was going first.

Without really thinking, she moved the C Pawn forward. She was more interested in looking like she had this game under wraps, rather than actually contemplating a strategy. The haze in her head made it harder to think, and she would never expect the fight to be decided on the board.

Lorenza ignored Anne's latest crack. She was getting tired of the muay thai champion already, and they'd only been speaking for a little under a minute. The boxing champion strutted over to her seat, ignoring the nagging pain in her leg, and sat down. She examined the chess board, which was pristine, untouched, with all the black and white pieces gleaming under the arena lights.

Anne sat down, as well, and then the referee went to undo Anne's gloves. Lorenza would sit back and relax. She was going second, and had the advantage of being able to examine her opponent's moves and react, rather than moving blindly, as Anne would have to to start this chess match.

Anne moved a pawn forward. Simple enough. Lorenza lifted up her gloves and allowed the referee to unlace them.

The Mexican boxer would not spend much time considering her move. As soon as her gloves were removed, Lorenza would move the black pawn opposite the one that Anne had moved forward, mirroring her opponent's first move.

Anne stared at the chessboard as if she was seriously considering some grand strategy inside her of head. In truth, she was trying to remember how those horse things moved, but too proud to actually ask the red -or god forbid- Lorenza how they worked. It was an L, she remembered. They moved like L, and L is for loser, which wasn't gonna be her.

Right. Focus. So many little pains on her body, and a few big ones pounding right into her face and inside her tummy. She hated the part where they all came crashing down together, like some tattered bridge held together only by bloodlust and adrenaline, doomed to fall when the fight was over. She had to keep her fire going.

She moved a pawn forward again, the last one on her far right.

Lorenza watched her opponent's face as Anne considered her move. The boxer wanted to launch a few more verbal jabs at Anne, to keep the woman reeling, keep her on her toes, but right now, Lorenza's adrenaline was beginning to ebb, and as it receded, the pain in her body started to grow. She decided to bite her tongue and just focus on the chess match, as stupid and useless as it was. She could taunt and gloat once she had Anne's king in checkmate.

After Anne made her next move, Lorenza would consider her own for a second. She thought about trying something more advanced, like moving a bishop or a knight or something. But she didn't want to do something stupid. She didn't quite know how good Anne actually was at this game. So Lorenza would make a calculated move, moving her second-leftmost pawn forward, just one space. If Anne tried to move her far-right pawn again, Lorenza's piece would be in a position to take it...

The more Anne stared at the chessboard, the less she understood why people played this game. Children had their childhoods stolen to facilitate training in this game, and the Olympics now considered it a formal sport -a joke, to be sure, but one for another time- and here she was playing it in lieu of a real sport.

She didn't even want to look at Lorenza now. As her head cleared, as the fire subsided, she gradually felt like shit for what she said to -and about- her. She didn't really mean it -well, not true. She still thought boxing was an anarchic sport- but she had never considered any of it with any true venom. Yet, she couldn't apologize, and she couldn't afford to feel bad, not when there was so much fighting left to do. She nursed her hate, nursed the shit Lorenza spewed her way. She was going to crush her.

...Just, uh, not on this chessboard.

She moved a random pawn on the other side forward, not taking Lorenza's bait. She was treating this as the makings of a pretty puzzle piece, rather than what it was.