Blue Thunder Mask vs. Makoto Takeda II - Beat It

Stone would later swear that the entire world seemed to slow down in that moment. The screams, the terror, the sight of Makoto roaring towards her target with a psychotic intent in her eyes, all of it stuck clear in her mind. She could see it happening, knew what was going down, but there wasn’t anything she could do to stop it or even slow it, like a movie unfolding before her eyes.

Stone and Devine jumped aback at once when they saw the hellish impact. Even the referee recoiled away from the blow, as if the attack itself had sent some invisible shockwave through the room. Silence filled the area once more, broken only with the soft footfalls of Makoto as she stepped away.

”You…” Stone took a hesitant step forward, gathering enough of her sense to speak along the way. ”Makoto, are you insane?” She took another step forward, this one harder than the last. “Are you fucking insane?”’

Makoto had been a bit busy catching her breath, spitting to the side after she came to a running stop, when Stone’s challenge took her off guard. She stepped away at first, not even sure what to make of it. It wasn’t as if she’d never seen aggression from the woman before, but aimed at her? That was a new thing. A rare thing.

Did not like it. Not at all.

”Am I? Are you?” She reached out and gave the burly blonde a poke in the chest. ”You’re the one who set this up, you’re the one who put him here, right?” She threw her head back his way. ”Go ahead. Say you didn’t.”

No response, Stone hardly even moved, which was only made the matter leagues worse in Makoto’s eyes. ”Yeah, about what I thought. Wanted to change things up, wanted to take back control, but you didn’t even have the balls to do it yourself.”

”Makoto, it’s not like-”

Makoto gave Stone a hard shove and pushed her back. Not the easiest thing to do with the size difference, but somehow she pulled it off. ”I don’t care what you think it’s like. You wanted this, you’ve got this. Enjoy.”

Makoto took a deep snort and turned back to her opponent, heading back towards Blue Thunder Mask with calm, controlled steps. No need to rush, no need to hurry. He was in the coffin and now all she had to do was put the last nails in.

Breathing through his nose was an impossibility. He didn't know why, just knew the few attempts to do so found him breathless. There was no comfort to be found on the ground, even as his attacker found herself distracted with other things. With what, he couldn't tell he heard the voices but the words seemed lack meaning, hitting his ear like a garbled recording playback.

He pushed at the ground, raising his head from the concrete, squinting at the shadow cast by his own body. His mouth was full, he could feel dripping from his lips. He sucked in a gurgled breath before he spat out a wad of red and swirled pink onto the ground. He stared down at the mess, the sole eye that remained open scanning for anything teeth… they seemed to still be in her head.

He could only imagine how he looked, his body was overtake. His face was so wracked with pain he wanted to dig his nails in and tear away at himself to try and rip the feeling out. He still had the mind to know that wasn't the answer. He needed a hospital. He lurched up, getting to his knees, though at an odd angle to take most of his weight off of his battered one. Her boot had torn part of his mask apart, one of the blue and yellow straps along the side of his hand dangled down, exposing the extent of the gaping wound left from the wench. It left his half of his face painted scarlet, his eye closed and hidden behind the curtain of red.

He half turned, staggering up to one foot as his knee remained on the ground. His azure eye locked on the coming storm that was Makoto. He looked more akin to a zombie than a hero now, some horrible thing of nightmares that needed death to find peace. Even at a distance his wheezing breathing was audible as he looked on at his destroyer, somehow still holding onto his defiance.

And now he was getting back up. Perfect.

That sight alone made Makoto stop in her tracks when she was halfway towards him, looking his way with an astonished glare. What was with this guy? She kept trying to make sense of him, but it never seemed to work out right. He could’ve given up, could’ve left the AFW, could’ve kept his body in fighting shape, but instead he just kept coming her way. Rising up. Daring her to finish him off. She would call him a glutton for punishment, but even that seemed like she was underselling. This man was addicted to it.

This wasn’t a match, not anymore. It was euthanasia, and she was the one who had the fun job of putting the dog down. Lovely.

”Fuck it, then.”

Makoto ran the rest of the way, putting what she had left into a full stride, heading straight towards Blue Thunder Mask’s rising form. She didn’t waver, didn’t falter, didn’t slow down one bit, steeling herself every step of the way. This was where it ended, and there’d be no question was left standing.

The moment she was close enough, she jumped up and raised her boot as high as it would go, ready to bring it down hard and send Blue Thunder Mask’s face - what was left of it - crashing into the street.

Blue Thunder Mask had locked his sights on Makoto the moment she had whirled back around. Half risen, at a distance the two competitors shared a moment. Hatred, anger, resentment… it sparked between the two so noticeable at a glance they could have stopped people in the street with their mere presence. She charged… he waited. The hero held his arm as he watched the thunderous run of his opponent, boot clapping against the pavement in long defined strides as she made to run him down. One small misstep for him now and it was over for good. Another boot to his head, hell, just about anything of worth from the biker boss was going to put him away. It was now or never.

He primed his legs, remaining low, no longer kneeling but crouching. His bad leg screamed up at him as the muscles strained in protest to the burden of his weight, threatening to give out at any time. He counted down her strides, fingertips twitching as if held aloft over a pistol. This was a showdown, one decisive move, that was all he needed. The moment had to be right. Failure was an overwhelming possibility should anything be even the slightest hair off.

There.

Makoto left the ground committing to her trajectory, there was nothing could do to cut him off he just had to move. Simple in theory, hard in practice as his body reminded him of every scratch, ever blunt force every single open wound he currently had crippling his form. He was urged on though. He had to, or else all of this pain would be for nothing.

His boots dragged along the ground as his hunch form found itself in motion, sliding to the side, slipping past Mokoto as her momentum carried her forward. He pivoted on his good leg, hand snapping out to grab hold of the back of the biker girl’s top, clenching the fabric between his bloodied fingers enough to whiten his knuckles. With a hard pull, he tried to drag her backwards towards just as she came down stomping at nothing.

Ripping her back, a straight was out of the question on his bad leg. He needed to compensate. Her warm came around, attempting to scoop Makoto up as he hopped up on one foot, twisting as he worked to rotate her quickly in his grasp. His arms locked in around her leg, another palm pressed to her midsection to steady their fall as he delivered the Blue Thunder Bomb right on the pavement. One of the sloppiest executions of the move in his career, but there was no denying it wasn't also the most devastating one as well.

His body would slump against the leg he held up having spent just about everything he had left for this one moment it was now or never. His head hung as ruby droplets dripped down onto Makoto soaking into her clothing. Stains that wouldn't easily come out, a reminder of what happened tonight. If nothing else… he knew he tried with all he had and left his legacy in tact. He could lose with a clear conscious though it would be bitter all the same.

Stone didn’t believe it.

She had been standing there, watching it occur, only a few feet away from the scene, and she still couldn’t believe the sight she’d bore witness to had just occurred.

The match was over, and it looked for certain that her ambitions were about to die alongside Blue Thunder Mask’s career. If this had been anything resembling a normal match, the referee would’ve stopped it over concerns for his safety by now. He was in no fit shape to stand up under his own power, much less fight, much less go up against Mako. Yes, she was hurting to, but unlike him, she still had enough left in the tank to put an end to things. A brutal, gruesome end, but an end all the same.

In a way, that was exactly what happened. Stone was just wrong to guess who it would be happening to.

She gasped - a real, straight up, honest gasp - as Blue Thunder Mask tapped into some impossible well of energy, spurring to life at the last second. She could see the look on Mako’s face in that instant, showing she was just as surprised as anyone, but the time was long past where she could do anything about it. One moment, she had her feet on the floor. The next, she was moving past him, going into open space as he flowed around her. The next after that, she was flying.

Viewed out of context, it was a sickening scene. Blue Thunder Mask’s power move would’ve been devastating on the far more forgiving canvas, enough to lay someone  like Makoto out at just about any point. On the pavement, it was exponentially worse, and the scream that came along with it was solid evidence to that fact. Makoto let out a loud one, hoarse and harsh, arching her back as the pain tore through her system, only to come to a rest a second later. An unmoving, human-shaped mass, held in Blue Thunder Mask’s grip.

The referee started the count, but it was beyond a foregone conclusion at this point. She could’ve counted to three or thirty or maybe even three hundred. Makoto was done.

”1…!

2…!

3…!”

Just like that, Blue Thunder Mask became the leader of the Valkyries.

Makoto had set the wheels in motion what was months ago. What was a routine stop for the Valkyries to shake down the newest addition to Tension had come something far more. When the two had first fought, he saw the potential in her. She was a tough as nails woman who had an undeniable talent. The fact she was using it all to be what amounted to bullying for the sake of being bully was, to him, a huge waste.

He could take her harsh words, those stringing punches, even those questionable tactics. Those were at the end of the day all part of the business. What he couldn't abide by was having their match sullied by interference on her order. The act itself wasn't as insulting as the fact she thought it would put him down. Had it not been for his injuries, he would have been back the very next night to call her out.

Makoto may have had her suspicions of Stone and thoughts of her motives. Had been able to listen to the brief argument, he would have disagreed. Through his small interactions with the three core members of the gang, he thought he had a decent understanding of why she had done it all… more than what she had let him in on with their private conversation.

Stone, was a good woman at heart. It seemed as though Devine was as well when it came down to it. That only left Makoto. He wanted to believe in her. Find something of worth to hang on to, to drive him to want to save her from herself the same was Stone wanted. He couldn't find it. He had tried so hard, looked so long, and all he saw was a darkened heart hell bent on chaos. Had he gone wrong somewhere or was this just who she was?

The challenge would have been made with or without Stone’s involvement. All that changed was the direction of the Valkyries as a whole. Perhaps the stakes had lead them to this bloodbath or they would have been down this road even without everything on the line. This was more than just their livelihoods, this was their life entirely. Everything both he and her had worked for this, cherished it. As they stood at the gates in open opposition, it was a declaration the victor was going to forever alter everything they believed in.

Victory was his. He should have been happy, he should have felt something. His hollow heart towards Makoto had been filled with nothing but overwhelming pain. As he sat hunched up against her after the final count had landed, he couldn't bring himself to celebrate. His arms slipped away from her to drop down to his sides as he leaned up against her suspended leg. He stared down at her prone body, every time his eye blinked, it opened less and less until it remained closed. His head lulled forward with on long exhale before he too went still.

The medical staff had already been on hand and waiting just inside the building. A path was made for them by security.  Emergency services had also been called, arriving even before the Tension staffers and trainers had accessed all the damage. It took the professionals to separate the two. It hadn't taken a professional to see how badly Makio had been banged up.

The medical team saw to rousing him from his stupor, trying to make sure he remained awake and responsive. Every time he blinked, timed seemed to have passed far faster than it should. Slipping from one moment to the next, strangers crowded over him, yelling, putting something around his neck. He couldn't move his head. A sudden jolt, he was higher now… they were taking time somewhere over bumpy terrain. His eye caught something beside him. A woman laying on a raised stretcher. Makoto? It lingered there as the stretcher under him was collapsed into the back of an ambulance, watching her fade from sight as he was swallowed by the bright lights within.

Questions. Why so many questions? Did he have any allergies? Was there someone they should notify? What was his name? When was his birthday? Where did he live? What did he have for breakfast? Favorite shows? Hobbies? It never ended… they wanted him awake, their constant pstering and prodding kept him at the edge for awhile but he felt the pull drawing him into the abyss. A question went unanswered… once… twice… three times. They were yelling again. To each other, to him.

“Hang on, don't leave us!”

He always hated to disappoint. He had fought so much tonight. It was time to rest. The yelling faded. The world vanished, a with it the pain. The darkness called to him and he let it in.