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Carmen made her way up the stairs of an apartment building in Kyoto, hands in her pockets and a black hoody covering her face in the shadows of the setting sun. For the first time in a long while, she wasn’t the center of attention wherever she went, didn’t draw eyes every time she turned a corner. The fact that she didn’t have a big, shiny belt to carry everywhere had a lot to do with that.

It had been a long, long week for Carmen Rodriguez.

Losing the 24/7 Championship was bad. Losing it to a rookie like Soledad Vega was worse. Getting beat in such a dominant fashion, though was the icing on the cake, the thing that brought it all together. Carmen’s sponsors knew she’d lose the title someday, but getting it taken in such an unseemly way put them on edge, made them wary. She’d spent the week healing up and putting their minds at ease, assuring them that her career was far from over and that she’d bounce back.

She hadn’t lost any money, but she was walking on thin ice. Thinner than she’d like. It wouldn’t be getting any thicker after what was about to happen to her, either.

Carmen stopped in front of a door, checked her text messages to make sure this was the right one, then sighed when it turned out to be. She took off her hood and ran a hand through her hair, feeling it for what would be one of the last times. Inside, she was kicking herself for making this a hair vs. hair match. Why’d she go for that? To teach Soledad some kind of lesson?

In the end, she was the one who ended up learning, and she’d relive it every time she looked in the mirror.

Carmen raised her fist, hesitated and brought it back down, then raised it once more. She’d made the bed, now she had to sleep in it.

With a long huff, she gave the door a hard knocking. ”Don’t be home, be out somewhere doing something…”

Soledad had woken up late, today. Not usually a morning person, the teenage street fighter was still indulging herself. A late night after solid days of partying, and not even attempting to crawl out of bed until well into the afternoon. Soledad simply lay back and indulged, nothing covering her save for the white satin sheets, and her newly won 24/7 Championship.

That recent acquisition signaled a massive change, for the AFW newcomer. Taking a lazy glance around her apartment, Soledad saw all of the empty space, the wide open shelves and floors of the apartment. Managing to find a wide open space like this was an impressive enough feat in her new country, but Sola was lucky like that. And now, wtih championship gold to her name, the teenage street fighter was in a position to start filling those shelves. That was a matter for the coming weeks, however. Tonight, Sola had something very, very specific on her agenda, for tonight.

Sliding the title belt off of herself, feeling the cool leather slide across her bare breasts, Sola smiled. Tonight was the final step she would need to take, to cement her new place in AFW. Tonight was the night that Carmen was answer to her own apuestas challenge, and submit her own hair to Soledad. The move had been a calculated one on Carmen's part, getting right into Soledad's head by reminding her of her final failure back home in Puerto Rico. In the end, however, it felt as if it was a final step for Sola to finally leave that past behind her.

Finally pushing herself out of bed, Sola reached for the green and gold silk robe that was draped lazily over the nighstand. Soledad slid the smooth fabric over her bare body, and let it hang loose over her generous curves. Ignoring the thin silken belt, Sola instead wrapped the robe around her with her championship belt. It was a loose fit, the shoulder of the robe slip over, exposing a fair amount of Soledad's upper chest, but she paid it no mind as she stepped out into the living room.

The living room was another wide, empty space. Empty, save for a single table moved in from the adjoining kitchen. A single chair was at the table, before which Soledad had arranged an electric razor, a towel, a straight razor, and a bowl for hot water. All carefully arranged, ready and waiting to meet Carmen Rodriguez.

After a short wait, Sola finally heard the knock at the door. She grinned. "It's open, chica! Mi casa es su casa!"

Carmen just let her eyes roll when she heard Sola’s voice coming from within, sounding all cheerful and peppy. She should've known the door would be unlocked.

Over the course of the week, Carmen had considered doing unto Vega as Vega had done unto her - bringing a referee to the apartment, ambushing her, taking the title back. It would be legal, and given the way she’d invaded Carmen’s personal space to kick this all off, it would’ve been deserved. All too tempting. But no. That wasn't the right way. It would just start a cycle: Carmen would steal the belt back, Soledad would take it again, she’d sneak attack her, so forth and so on. That was not how Carmen wanted to spend her AFW career. She and the 24/7 title were done. This made that official.

Carmen opened the door, stepped in and immediately paused when she looked around at Soledad’s shell of an apartment. ‘Spartan’ didn't even begin to describe it. ‘Barebones’, ‘empty’, and ‘shell’, these fit well enough. Carmen immediately began to decorate the place in her head, looking around until her gaze finally came to Vega.

For a moment, Carmen couldn't hide the look in her eyes. The lust. There was no denying how attractive she was, that was obvious from the start, but seeing her here, in the robe, her chest aching to burst through, so much of her skin on display...

If Soledad was trying to mess with her head, it was working splendidly. Carmen felt her blood heating up, but it didn't last long. A chill came over her when she saw the chair and the razor and the table.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, then opened them again, staring straight at Vega. She was calm, casual, no real malice, like she was walking into the home of an old friend. Just dropping in for a little visit.

”Nice place.” Carmen took off the hoody, revealing a tight red bandeau sports bra underneath, showing off her sinewy shoulders and steely arms. ”Would look nicer with actual things in it. Posters, furniture, a picture here and there…”

Soledad stood at the door frame, eagerly waiting to see what Carmen might do next. She tossed her head to one side, letting her unbound hair cascade over her shoulder. Sola spread her legs, then, letting the expanse of her wide thighs tug at the edges of her robe. Grinning wickedly, the teenage street figther wanted to invite Carmen in, in every way possible. With the championship belt fastened around her waist, Soledad's gesture seemed that extra bit daring. That extra bit challenging.

In truth, however, no part of Soledad could have expected this moment. As comfortable as she tried to look, she still felt like none of this should be happening. Just barely into her career in a new promotion, after being shamed out of her own country. And now, the hometown legend was standing at her threshold. Supplicant, defeated. Belonging to Soledad Vega.

And Soledad could see the look in Carmen's eye, as she glanced into the apartment. The hunger in her eyes. Sola cocked a smirk Carmen's way, trying to lock eyes long enough to show Carmen that she'd caught on. That she knew what Carmen had seen, and the feelings she'd betrayed.

"Carmen," Sola said, "so good to see you! So glad to have you in my humble casa!" Sola stepped back, away from the threshold. "You're right, though. It could use some decoration. Some more furniture, maybe some art." Sola winked, mockingly, "Perhaps some trophies, eh?

"But that will all come in time." Sola said, stepping back. She spread her arms wide, pulling her robe apart tantalizingly. The sheer fabric slid across her soft skin, threatening to tug apart at any moment. "For now, I'm simply glad to have company. Make yourself comfortable, chica," Sola said, "I know this place isn't as impressive as some champion's residences. But then again, I've been in a champion's home, before. After that, what's left to the imagination? Come, come," Sola said, motioning to the empty chair before the table, "make yourself at home, chica."

Carmen heard Sola talking - the woman had the sultry yet strangely irritating voice that was almost impossible to block out - but she didn’t register what she was saying. She didn’t pay too much notice to the expanse of flesh that was being put on tantalizing display, though she couldn’t help but glance up at it with furtive looks and a slight reddening on her cheeks.

No, her gaze had locked on the belt for the most part.

It was surreal seeing it there. She’d been carrying it everywhere for the past year - meetings, dinner, even into bed on more than one occasion. She had to be ready to hand it over at anytime, so the belt had became a part of her. Carmen had grown so accustomed to the weight that she’d forgotten it was there a few times.

And now it was around Sola’s waist, keeping her robe together, one of the only things keeping her sizzling form covered, that dusky skin, those fulsome hips, those luscious legs.

”Right.” Carmen finally muttered and stepped forward, only taking a slight pause to kick off her shoes and leaving them in the entryway. One of the many little Japanese custom that had rubbed off on her in the past three years.

She made her way to the table and started to sit down, wanting to get on with this as soon as feasibly possible. She stopped halfway down, though, when she looked at the whole setup.

”A straight razor?” Her eyebrow raised. There was an electric razor there, too, but the straight razor would need a little more finesse than she’d expected. Frankly, she expected the new champion to do a terrible job, and that she’d have to see a real barber to finish it up. It brought a rather pertinent question to mind.

Carmen looked Sola’s way with a canted head. ”You have done this before, right?”

Welcoming Carmen into her home, Soledad followed the former champion's gaze right onto her newly-won prize. Sola smirked, shifting her weight from one hip to the other, allowing the belt to shimmy down her waist a bit and catch the light. Sola's smirk widened into a full grin, as she let her hips shimmy lightly, bouncing the leather strap off of her thigh, playfully.

Soledad tossed her hair off to one side, as Carmen kicked off her shoes. Herself very new to Japan, Sola hadn't acclimated quite that much. To her, it just seemed as though Carmen was getting herself settled in.

"Get comfortable, Carmen," Sola said, with a grin. "Take off whatever you like." Teasingly, Soledad dipped her shoulder and let the silken fabric slide just barely over the edge of her shoulder. It clung tenuously to her bicep.

Soledad took her place behind the table, as Carmen reacted to the straight razor. Soledad wrapped her fingers daintily around the handle of the blade, letting it roll over and over in her hand. In fact, Sola hadn't even thought much about her actual tools, for tonight. What message they might send, or how it might be taken. She just got the shaving kit out, and eagerly waited for her night to use it.

"Well, cham- Carmen," she said, correcting herself with a cheeky grin, "I haven't had the pleasure of shaving my own head. But, I've trimmed some other folks, here and there. You get to teach yourself a lot, when your papi isn't around so much. I promise you, though, I'll be careful. I'll treat it as if it were my own head ... not that mine would be in this situation ..."

Carmen’s mind was a cornucopia of confusing, conflicting emotions at the moment. Aside from the strong temptation to just snatch the title off of Soledad’s chest, there was the dawning realization that her former - and likely future - foe probably wasn’t wearing anything under that loose fitting robe, that she’d dressed like this simply to mess with Carmen’s head, and that it was undoubtedly working like a charm.

She grumbled, muttering a few curses under her breath, but gave in quick enough. Drawing this out would only make it worse.

She spun about and plopped down in the seat, assuming the position for a good shaving. It took her a moment to ease into the chair, but she acclimated soon enough, settling into it and making herself ‘at home’.

Carmen closed her eyes, perfectly willing to do this sightless if it meant not having to stare at Sola’s cocky grin or get caught looking at her breasts, but her last comment forced the former champ to open one eye. Her first instinct was to make a smart remark, point out that Soledad probably would’ve ran from the chair, do what she did to avoid the razor before.

Carmen thought better of it and closed the eye. She wasn’t in the mood to argue. It did bring up an interesting question, but she’d save it for later. There were other things she was curious about.

”That’s comforting to know.” Carmen started to peel off her hoodie and toss it to the side, revealing the white sports bra underneath, clinging tight to her chest. ”What was the story with you and your father, anyway? I read a little online, but…”

Soledad watched Carmen make her way across the room, to the makeshift barber's chair. The young latina street fighter cocked a hip out, letting her silken robe catch the breeze and sashay around her hips. Sola offered Carmen a warm, wry grin, not letting her eyes off the champion for a second.

Sola felt like she knew Carmen, at this point. The young woman, the former 24/7 champion, was a creature of honor and tradition. She wasn't going to be taking any cheap shots, no sudden reversals. Carmen had made a vow, and she was going to honor it. In many ways, she was the opposite of the woman who was currently carrying the 24/7 championship.

As Carmen sat down, Sola slid up behind her. Sola said nothing, sliding behind Carmen. Sola took note of Carmen's strategic silence, but she choked back any comment. Sola flipped her hair over her shoulder, letting it flip dramatically over her shoulder. She watched Carmen's hoodie come down, looked at the tight spandex beneath, and let out a light "mmmn" of appreciation.

Then, Sola leaned in. She snaked her lean, muscular arms over Carmen's shoulders. Snatched the razor blade off the table, and grinned. The teenage street fighter bent forward at the hip, trying to engulf Sola as she took her position in the chair. Sola's arms hugged Carmen tight as she took stock of her implements. Sola's ample chest leaned forward, her breasts swelling against the back of Carmen's head. Then, quickly, she stopped.

"My father, eh?" Sola said, stopping briefly. Her breath caught in her throat, her pulse raced. Given their closeness, Sola realized that Carmen could likely feel the way her heart was pounding, through her warm flesh. "Well, I thought a proper fighter like you would know all about him, eh? Probably more than I would, anyway." Carmen had struck a nerve, and Sola's eyes shot wide open. The young woman's flesh was quivering, now, a rare moment of vulnerability. "But tell me," Sola said, taking a deep breath and letting her chest swell against Carmen's head once again, while her biceps flexed on Carmen's neck, "what did you read? What is it, that you know so well, eh?"

Despite everything that had gone on between them, despite the hell Soledad had put her through, despite the fact that this woman, not long ago, had broken into her home and assaulted her in the middle of the night, there was an odd sort of trust she had for the younger, more voluptuous Puerto Rican. Not because Soledad was particularly virtuous or true or anything like that - she wasn’t. But she seemed to operate on things that were in her best interest. Carmen had nothing left offer her except the hair on her head, and she was about to get that. Attacking her here had no purpose.

She leaned back and let herself enjoy the feeling of Soledad’s chest against her skin, pressing on her, close enough to feel each thump-thump of her Latin heart. In fact, she was far closer than she likely needed to be. Carmen knew from experience, Soledad had a way of letting her body swallow you whole, and that was what she seemed to be doing here. A part of her wanted to just fall back and let herself be devoured, let the heat pour over her.

She stopped herself. Partly because she realized that her head had turned to the side and she was nuzzling Soledad’s breast, but also because of the stark change in Soledad’s state.

It wasn’t often to see the street fighter at a loss for words, but this seemed like one of those times.

Carmen reached up at the arm that was clenching her neck a tad too tightly, pulling it just enough to make her ease up. Not aggressive, just an unspoken request.

”Well, I know of him. Lots of people do. Valerio Vega.” She said the name with practiced ease. ”I only really became interested in wrestling three or so years ago, but even before then, his name was in a lot of circles. I heard his name mentioned with my father a lot when it came to famous promoters and retired fighters. Never met him personally, but when I was training for the AFW I took some cues from his style. His boys are pretty good, too.”

Wanting to show she wasn’t quite as flustered as she was - and maybe to throw a little back towards Soledad - Carmen let her arm slip down and behind her, bring a hand to the champion’s thigh. Nothing too much. Just a little caress. ”He seemed like good stock, but you lived with the man, didn't you? Trained under him? Why would I know more than you?”

Soledad sighed, letting her ample chest heave and her silken robe shimmer in the low light of the room. One of her canine teeth dug slightly, at the corner of her lip. The line of conversation had gone in a direction that Soledad wasn't exactly prepared for, nor was she enthusiastic about it. No, she would simply have to grin and bear it out. Sola just knew she couldn't back down. She hadn't gotten as far as she had in AFW by backing down, after all ...

"Well, there you go, chica," Sola said. She tossed her hair to one side, letting it brush over her shoulder as she shrugged. "See, right there, you seem to have more knowledge of him than I do. You had the television, you maybe went to the wrestling matches at the arena, got to talk to his big fancy wrestling friends. More than me and mi madre could afford to do, if we were gonna try to get close to him.

"I did meet a couple of 'his boys,' tho. And yeah, they're pretty good. Unless you've got something to say about their mentor that they don't wanna hear. Then, they're not so 'good,' no more," Sola scowled, as she settled in behind Carmen. The new 24/7 Champion was distracted, however, as she felt Carmen's arm brush along her thigh. Sola's breath caught in her lungs, causing her buxom chest to swell a bit against the back of Carmen's head. Sola leaned forward, letting her breasts rest across the back of Carmen's neck, and sink warmly against her shoulders. "It's the sort of talk that might get you into some fights, you know?"

Soledad was quiet, for a moment. With her jaw set, and her eyes fixed down on the top of Carmen's head, the young woman took a long, silent moment for herself. Once it was over, she went back to the task at hand.

Reaching down, Sola let her arm brust against the center of Carmen's chest as she grasped a pair of scissors. Just the first of the implements that she planned on using, tonight. With her free hand, Sola reached up. Caressing the oustide of Carmen's shoulder, she traced her fingers in a slight line, tracing the edge of Carmen's neck and brushing up along her cheek. Gently, Sola embraced Carmen's jawline, and fixed her face to stare directly across the room, at a small vanity mirror hanging against the opposite wall.

"It was years before I actually got to meet that man," Sola said, pulling her body flush against Carmen's shoulders. "Even if I got to hear about him all the time, even if I got to share many ... vigorous debates with 'his boys.' I got admitted to his illustrious school eventually, sure. After I spit a lot of my blood, sweat and tears into the gutters around it. And as soon as I did? I had to leave the country. So, you know, we didn't get much chance to talk. At least when you watch him on the teevee, you didn't have to hear about disgracing him, huh? So, you know, you got that going for you."