Dire Straits

This was a bad idea. This was a really bad idea. This was the worst idea in the long, sordid history of extremely bad ideas.

Kaede Komatsuzaki told herself that over and over as she made her way through the streets of Tokyo. She wasn’t dressed in her usual blue pants and jacket, didn’t have her hair dyed pink. Instead, she wore unimposing black track pants and a matching hood, and her hair was dyed brown, the cast on her arm covered by a sleeve - only someone who  knew her personally would recognize her, and even they need a moment to pick her face out. She looked as un-Kaede as humanly possible, and she needed to for what she had in mind today. This was stealth mode.

So she’d managed to do that all right. But it wasn’t what she was doing that was the problem of whom she was doing it to. As she made her way through the streets and slunk through the crowds, she stayed in the shadow of Manami Kuroda - the Wolf Girl.

On face, it seemed like an insane notion. It had been a few weeks since their encounter, where Manami had utterly decimated her in the ring, only to pick her apart at her leisure in a private room. It was a horrific experience, like living through an extended slasher movie, and Kaede was lucky that the AFW’s medical plan was so good, that nothing had been broken which couldn’t be healed. Even so, she still had minor pains all over, and it would be a while before she was cleared to set foot in the ring. She wasn’t in fighting shape.

So it was a good thing that she didn’t plan on fighting Manami again. Not directly.

But that didn’t mean she wasn’t getting even with her, either. It had taken her a while to do this, but here she was. She’d tracked Manami from Friction and followed her through Tokyo, staying close, but not close enough to arouse suspicion. Ducking around passerby, occasionally dipping into an alley, careful to watch every move the Wolf Girl made.

It was a long, tiring walk, but it all paid off - she eventually found Manami’s apartment and followed her inside, getting just close enough to tell which door she went into. That was all she needed to know.

From there, it was a simple matter of waiting and waiting and waiting, passing the time by playing with her phone as best as she could with one hand. After a couple of hours of idling on the sidewalk, though, the patience paid off - sure enough, she saw Manami leave, probably heading out for the night. She wouldn’t have to be gone long for what Kaede had planned, but the longer, the better.

She went rushing into the apartment building, found Manami’s apartment, and brought out her tools to work away on the lock. It had been a while since she’d had to bust out her lockpicking skills, but she was still as good as ever - a little twist there, a push her, a tickle there, and she was able to open the door with ease. Quick and quiet, she opened the door and slipped inside, closing it behind her with a soft click.

Kaede could feel her heart beating out of her chest as she surveyed the room, took it all in, weighed the moment. This was it. Her chance to get back at Manami, at least in some small way...

The apartment was rather spacious, though that’d have to be expected for a wrestler living so close to downtown. Second-rate wouldn’t cut it. Someone of Manami’s stature didn’t settle for average housing, and the room would reflect it.

Just next to the flat screen was a wall of glass, a large window that let its occupant see out towards the nearby and distant skyscrapers. Not too high up, but just enough away from the streets to obscure one from sight. The skyline was just barely visible from this angle as well. A few pieces of fine art adorned the walls. In spite of all this, however, one’s eyes were still drawn to the room itself. Everything was surprisingly neat. Spotless even. Not a single thing out of order. It was like she had just moved in. Nearly a year of wear and accumulated scuffs on the furniture, however, would attest to that claim, if one were so inclined. Most people likely wouldn’t take the Wolf Girl for a cleaner, but the surprises this woman had in store didn’t seem to end at wrestling.

More importantly, however, the place looked empty. The kitchenette looked like it was free of use, aside from a few plates drying, and the television was off. Nothing was left out and everything looked to be back in its place. It seemed like the unbeknownst trespasser was in the clear. For a few moments. That was how long it took someone to register the door closing. Looks like the pinkette wasn’t as silent as she needed to be. Paper-thin walls, this place.

“Kuroda-san? Did you forget something? I’ll get it for you.” A hardy, yet feminine voice called out from down the hall.

From the nearby corridor, a number of heavy footsteps could be heard making their way around the corner. Those halls connecting the offset rooms weren’t particularly lengthy. It wouldn’t be long before she was in the living room. Not much to gauge on who exactly it was, but judging from the weight of those steps, she was a bit on the top-heavy side.

“I needed to ask you something, actually. If you don’t mind, that is.” The movement stopped for a second, realizing she wasn’t hearing a call back. “Kuroda-san? You’re not still upset, are you?”

Something was wrong. She could feel it. Her instincts were catching the discomfort in the air. It smelled off and she didn’t like it.

...goddamnit, Manami’s apartment was better than hers.

It was kind of a stupid revelation to make, and one that shouldn’t have mattered much to her in the long run. Heck, in a way, it was a good thing, since it meant she’d have more stuff to break and steal. But, petty as it was, she couldn’t help but feel just a little jealous. Granted, she didn’t see a lot of stuff around the place, not yet, but there was an awful lot of space here for just one person.

And it was clean. Kind of weird, really. The way Manami acted, she half expected to find the place covered with torture devices, sharp implements, and dead animal skins. But nope, nothing out of the ordinary. It didn’t even smell all that bad. ”Huh.”

She pulled off her hood and started to look around, but before she could take another step, she froze in her tracks as an unfamiliar voice ran through the apartment. A roommate? Someone actually lived with Manami, of their own free will?

Before she could really register that insane thought, the woman - the rather heavy woman, from the sound of her - started to move her way, giving Kaede precious few options. She could bolt out the way she came, but that ran the risk of making this a whole thing, getting caught on the outside. Kaede wanted to stay, at least long enough to figure out who this was and if she could knock her out, but she didn’t want to do that straight up. Stealth mode was still in effect.

Crouching low, she slid over into the kitchenette with silent steps, turning the corner and peeking around it, trying to get a look at who this woman was from behind. At the same time, she scanned the kitchenette for a blunt object to use - a rolling pin, a pan, anything.

She’d come this far...

After a few more careful steps, the woman entered the room just Kaede had ducked low and round the corner. Just on the other side of the counter stood Yuki Kitashima. Slowly she craned her head from the left to right. Everything seemed to be in order.

The atmosphere was still and thin, but there was something more out there. It was bending and distorting, like it didn’t belong. She could almost feel it against her bare skin. She decided to probe a little further.

She was fitted in her ring attire for a reason known only to her. One could deduce exactly what that reason was from the thin layer of sweat glistening her body and the way her chiseled abs pronounced themselves with each breath. Her body was tense with tight muscles rippling beneath the skin. An intimidating presence radiated from this woman that warned passersby to steer clear of her path. She needn't utter another word, not that she intended to. Her eyes and posture did all the talking. They sent a clear message without uttering a single breath. Nothing snuck past this woman. Not without her say so.

In spite of her imposing stance, Yuki was met with dead air and abject silence. The room was still. Everything held its breath. Even so, she wasn't deterred. Promptly, she moved to check the door. It was still locked and there weren't any obvious signs of forced entry. The bleached blonde narrowed her eyes slightly. She could have sworn she heard the lock.

Might just be the adrenaline. Or the neighbors. I was making a bit of a racket earlier.

Still, she hadn't forgotten her duty and remained attentive as she turned back around to look around the room. She walked past the kitchenette counter she made her inspection. It may have just been jitters, but it never hurt to check, right?

Kaede wasn't sure what she was expecting with the woman who came around the corner. Knowing Manami, she could make all kinds of guesses about the sort of woman that would want to be around her for any given amount of time, much less pay rent for the privilege - unkempt, dirty, every bit as batshit insane as her ‘friend’. If that word even applied.

The woman who showed up was none of those things, though. Tall. Lean. Built like an amateur bodybuilder. It was a stark contrast to the wild, wicked Manami, and Kaede would never have guessed that the two women were connected if they’d met on the street.

But they weren’t on the street. They were in Manami’s apartment. And she was wearing a getup that was similar to the one that the Wolf Girl wore. Why she had that on now was anyone’s guess, but the more important takeaway was that it meant that a) she was Manami’s teammate and b) she wasn’t Kaede’s friend, even if you took away the whole breaking-and-entering thing.

Kaede was of the mind to give her a wide berth, but the problem was that she kept coming her way, heading into the kitchenette. So she could either deal with this problem or run away.

Screw it.

As the woman came around the counter, Kaede made her move and leaped her way, hoping to take her by surprise. She swung her arm around full force, attempting to clock her clean in the face with her casted arm - might as well get some use out of the damn itchy thing.

It was still fairly quiet as Yuki made her way back to the kitchenette counter. She casually looked underneath the sofa, as though someone could actually be hiding under there, and made one more look behind her. The place looked empty as she leaned against the counter and gave one last look around. Then, as she rounded the corner, she was ready to declare the coast clear. That was, until someone leaped up and struck her across the face.

A cloud of spittle escaped her lips as the cast-coated arm struck her cheek. It wasn’t a bad hit. Probably would have knocked a less heavy person out for a good spell. Her skin rippled and flapped against the impact, making her cringe and stumble back towards the wall. Yuki placed one hand on the wall, holding herself up and feeling her arm shake as her body flooded with adrenaline. Her other arm went to the cheek as an intense heat welled up underneath after the strike. A bit of blood could be seen on in her palm after she pulled the hand away. Something was in that hit. Wasn’t as bad as a brass knuckle, but still stung like a bitch.

That was when she looked back and saw the cast. In fact, she was able to see exactly who exactly was suicidal enough to step inside of the wolf’s den. It was a shorter girl, with brown hair that didn’t look particularly natural. Track pants and a hoodie. Typical attire for someone who wanted to hide in plain sight. But what really caught her eye was the cast. A burglar with a cast. That’s a rare sight. And she had a mind to hit her with it like a cornered animal. Her style was unorthodox and sloppy. Who the hell is this girl?

There was one thing she knew for sure, though. This girl was not getting off easy. She didn’t miss a beat as she bounded off the wall and hurried towards the burglar.

“Big mistake.”

Lunging forward, Yuki would swing her fist with even greater force towards Kaede, aiming dead center at her face. If that hit, she was in for a world of hurt. The punk would be sent flying right back on her ass and against the stove. Might be bad for collateral damage, but the amazon really couldn’t care at this point. Her heart was pumping and her adrenaline was up.

This girl, whoever she was, would go down like a sack of fucking bricks.

”Ha!”

For a split second, it seemed like Kaede’s ‘plan’ had gone off well. She managed to catch the woman off guard easily enough, and the blow cracked her swiftly upside the head. A solid strike, the sort of blow that would’ve put 99 out of a 100 women flat on their ass. She’d have to follow up after that, sure, but she was prepared to go the extra mile.

But when that split second passed and Kaede realized this woman wasn’t going down, that burst of confidence began to fade faster than the raindrops on the windowsill behind her. She wasn’t going down. At all. In fact, she was standing up, looking pissed and in a mood to immediately retaliate.

”Ah shit-”

Two words. That was all Kaede had the time to utter before the woman’s fist collided with her face, hitting with enough force to send her hurtling into space. She slammed hard into the stove - which wasn’t turned on, thank fucking god - and she nearly wound up falling to her knees from there, only just managing to stop herself and stay upright on quaking feet.

God damn, this bitch could punch. So much for the element of surprise. Kaede was in for a real fight now, and she was starting to reconsider the idea of cutting and running. Fight or flight, either way, she had to get her out of the way, first.

Gritting her teeth, Kaede steeled herself and lunged towards the musclebound woman, seemingly taking her head on. Instead of trying to slug it out with someone built like a tank, though, she had a brief run of inspiration and swung her leg low instead, trying to trip the woman up with a leg sweep to her ankle.

All she had to do was get her down for a second, just a second, and options would open up.

She managed to nail the thug with that strong, practiced jab of hers. And from the sound of the girl’s reaction, she managed to surprise her just as easily as she did. That was a morale boost. This punk wasn’t so tough. Yuki sent her flying back into the stove, rattling a number of pots and pans laid out next to it. Too bad none of them fell on her. That would have been a very pleasant surprise for the both of them. Still, the blonde bodybuilder was more than capable of dealing with the little degenerate on her own.

Taking a step forward, she moved to take advantage of the punk’s downed state. Giving her fist a good shake, she approached with the intent of slamming her foot into her chest a bit. Maybe break a few ribs and knocking the air out of her before getting some answers. She couldn’t make out her body, but she couldn’t be that tough under there.

Then came the leg sweep. Her eyes went wide as the girl took Yuki’s feet out from under her and sent her quickly down towards the ground. The question replayed again in her mind: who the hell was this girl? An eagerness to fight. Decent martial skill. A good right hook. Quick on her feet. Only the last bit was really common with burglars, but it was clear that this woman was much more than the usual thugs you had walking around a bustling municipality like Tokyo. Even still, there was an aura about her. This girl was a fighter. What kind was the question.

The answer would have to come later, however, as Yuki hit the ground. Her head bounced off the hardwood floor and left her dazed for a second. She gave a noticeable wince against the impact. This was a bad spot to be in. Her senses were all over the place and her foe was an unknown, unpredictable threat bearing down on her. She wasn’t nearly as fast as this girl seemed to be either. For the moment, all she could do was give her body a moment to reassess. Then there would be hell to pay.

And down she went, with one well timed and placed kick. All at once, she was incredibly glad that her body had healed up as well as it, giving Kaede back the speed she needed to effectively pull of a move like that. It was close, but it worked, and she pulled off exactly what she wanted to do - chopping this tree trunk of a woman off at the base. What was more, the bleach-blonde-bitch banged her head on the floor, and seemed out of it for a few golden seconds.

Okay. Now for step two. Whatever that was.

Fight or flight?

Run or gun?

Never being that good at decisions in a pinch, Kaede decided to do both in her own way. She didn't want to make this a long fight, didn't like her chances of beating this woman around and not alerting the neighbors, but she didn't want to leave without doing some damage. Hurting Manami’s friend wasn't the perfect answer, but it would have to do.

She lunged forward and shot her leg out with a flashing kick towards the blonde’s face, attempting to knock even more sense out of her skull. If that worked, she'd make a mad dash for the door and run for it. Maybe push aover that tacky lamp on the way out, too. Couldn't hurt.

Yuki’s vision was just starting to align again when she heard the punk making her move. She may have been down, but she was far from out and already pumping herself up for a fight. One that neither of them would soon forget. More a reflex than anything, she brought her arm up and was anticipating a boot to head, which was more or less than case. What she didn’t ready herself for was when the thug jumped over her, using the blonde’s head like a jump pad as she bounced right over her and around the corner.

Clearly her foe wasn’t of the same mindset. Perhaps she wasn’t anticipating that someone was going to be in this apartment. No, that had to be the case. It only took Yuki a second to realize that she was heading towards the door. Brushing off that haphazard strike of hers, the heavier fighter hurried to her feet. The adrenaline her body was pumping like mad hadn’t been used up just yet. Like a runaway train with a serious grudge, she took after Kaede, not intending to let her step even a foot outside.

However, that task was proving to be a bit more difficult than she realized. This girl was quick and versatile. Probably should have expected that from someone who managed to slip into an occupied apartment undetected. Wasn’t the smallest apartment, but still. She was flying around it like she actually knew the place.

It seemed like all hope was lost as she neared the door. Once she was out, it was open territory. There would just be a flight of stairs between them. She’d chase her all the way to the streets and back, of course, but she was also barefoot. Her anger was only going to get her so far before her body started letting up. This was bad. She couldn’t let Manami know about this. No. No no no. Not ever. Not even in the next life. Her mind raced for options, but she was drawing blanks. The runaway punk was just near the door, and it seemed as though she’d actually make it. Yuki was in a panic…

...until she heard the lock turn, and the door fly open. She could just barely make out the figure of a shorter, long-haired woman, carrying a bunch of bags. Oh right. Fumika was out too.