James Wright vs. Yajiri Kasamatsu

James got up. Well, that was how the announcer would describe it. In reality, he jumped up and pumped his fist as if he had just won the belt. The sheer adrenaline of the situation was worth it in and of itself, but he had successfully pulled off another move. This match was going far better than his previous match had gone, and he was feeling a ton better because of it. He was sweating, but barely. He was hurting, but barely. He was tired, but barely.

And more than anything he was winning. After a second of celebrating, James dove on top of his beautiful opponent for the cover. There were very few traits that all Wrights shared, but arrogance was definitely one of them. This match was all wrapped up in James' mind, and the ref girl might as well put an end to it before it got completely out of hand.

It didn’t take a brain surgeon to understand things were looking bad for Yajiri, much more so than for her opponent. His style was one she had never attempted to compete or train against before. Everything he did was completely new to her, and that made him quite difficult to predict or react to.

After James moved over her, the ref knelt down and slapped the mat to start counting.

“One...!”

“Two...!”

But right after that, Yajiri grunted and thrusted out with her legs, jolting a shoulder up to break the count before it could go any further. Yes, she was down and hurting. But this rookie still had gas in the tank.

James stood up and backed off. It looked like this match was far from over. "Looks like you still got a little fight in you, huh?" The aerial ace was bouncing from one foot to the next. All matches had a flow to them, and for a long time this match had been flowing in his favor. His wrestling sense told him that there was a pretty good chance things would starting going well for Yajiri, and that might happen awfully soon. The people in the crowd and watching at home might mistake his bounces for youth or for excitement. The truth of the matter was that James was a bit nervous.

So James did his utmost to relieve himself of that nervousness. He waited a bit for Yajiri to come up, and then sprung forward. He was aiming for a lock-up to see what he could do from there. The purple haired man usually flourished when he was given the berth of the ring, but he wanted to try his luck up close and personal.

Yajiri took a few panting breaths as James got off of her. And while he started bouncing form foot to foot, she slowly rolled onto her front and pushed up to her hands and knees. That speed of his was...something else. Trying to slow him down almost felt like trying to catch a speeding bullet. Ended almost just as badly too.

But though she was down, the rookie wasn’t out. She calmed her mind down and focused on finding an opening. She’d have to think and act quick, but surely there had to be one somewhere. Sure enough, Yajiri found it when he came at her with his arms extended. James was looking for a lockup, but she had another idea. Once he was close, Yajiri grabbed his nearest wrist and dropped to her knees, attempting to shoot her other arm between his legs to flip him over her shoulders for a fireman’s carry takedown! Basic, yes. But if she could take him down to the mat again, that would be her best chance to turn things back around.

Wrestling had an aura. Or at least, it was supposed to. All the good guys were meant to win, and winning always playing fair. No tricky bullshit. James didn't really care much for all of that, but he didn't take it to the other end like his sister did. But still, when he went for an honest-to-god lockup, he wanted one. So when Yajiri threw him to the mat, he was peeved with her, but not nearly as much as he was with himself for being thrown to the ground like a bitch.

The purple-haired man rubbed his backside as he tried to pull himself up. All things considered, it wasn't even that dirty of a trick. But he was still a little bit angry that his momentum had been slowed.

Finally Yajiri had managed to slow the speedster down and put him back on the mat again. It was a simple takedown, the kind of stuff high school and even lower level wrestling coaches teach their wrestlers within the first week of practices. But, basic as it was, it served its purpose and got her in a much better position.

But James then tried to start pushing himself back up. Oh, no. Not on Yajiri’s watch. She’d endured too much to finally ground the high flyer. She wasn’t about to give him a chance to get back off the ground quite so easily! So she reared back her right leg, then fired it forward to blast James right in the back with a heavy roundhouse kick!

Be quick. The words came to him across a thousand miles and five years, but they came to him. You aren't strong and you aren't fast, so be quick. They were the words of his father, an overwhelmingly mediocre wrestler from middle America who was still plying his trade up and down the midwest. He had never made it. Not in any real sense. James liked the idea of making it, but not doing all the hard work that the belt entailed. But the words floated through his brain nonetheless, and James felt a bit of regret for not getting up a bit faster.

Yajiri helped him make that case. A solid kick graced his backside and sent the boy down to the mat. His whole lower back felt the wave of pain crash into him and the purple-haired wrestled was looking at nothing but canvas for the time being. He reached down and caressed it, hoping that would help. It didn't.

Yajiri’s kick landed, but she didn’t quite manage to hit the bullseye. She’d aimed for his back, but her foot struck a little lower than intended, almost hitting him right in the rear. Regardless, it at least put him flat on the mat, and that’s what mattered. The important thing was keeping him down and stationary, and she was in good position to do just that.

Moving quickly, she dropped down by his head and raised it up off the mat slightly then attempted to throw her legs around his neck, crossing them at the ankles to apply a headscissor. She imagined it’d be pretty hard for him to start running the ropes again with his head being squeezed between her legs.

The second that James was sent crashing down to the mat, he knew he was in trouble. From what he could tell of Yajiri, she was not a high flyer, so he couldn't just flip and spin and jump his way though this match, as much as he wished he could. Sometimes, he would have to spend some time on the ground. And that pained him. He was born to move around expanses as wide as the Iowa sky, and here he was, on the white canvas like a buffoon.

The second his head was raised off the mat slightly, he knew he was in trouble. His hand shot up, more of a reflex than anything else, when Yajiri's hand blessed his purple hair. It didn't completely stop the headscissors, but it gave him a little room to breathe, both figuratively and literally. Yajiri's legs were way more powerful than James' hand, but he could apply a little counter force, and maybe not get squeezed as badly as he otherwise would have.

Yajiri managed to get her legs coiled around James’ head and neck, which would’ve been a good thing if not for one minor issue. He’d managed to sneak his hand in, preventing her from getting as good a squeeze on him as she’d like. Discomfort was fine, but it’d take more than that to make someone like James tap out. If she wanted full value out of her hold, it’d need some adjusting.

“Tch. You’re a stubborn one...” she muttered while reaching to grab the hand that was caught in her headscissor. Yajiri would then briefly loosen her legs while pulling on the limb, trying to bring it all the way through before squeezing down with full pressure again, hoping to turn the failed headscissor into a triangle choke.