Raul Tejada vs Makoto Takeda: Mismatch?

There was many things about this girl that shocked Raul. How strong she was with all that power packed into a tiny frame, how agile, yet thuggish she could be in battle... and the most aggravating mystery of all: How she was getting more and more beautiful as she kicked the crap out of him! It was like some kind of magic trick, some effect of the lighting because, for a mere moment as he was falling to the floor, Raul felt his heart flutter as he gazed upon the face of this girl.

...Was probably nothing. Maybe something he ate. He didn't have TIME for romance, after all. He was here for work. HARD work, as he would soon discover, in the form of taking two boots SLAMMING down into his pecs like a pair of sledge-hammers!

"OOGH!" He coughed... surprisingly less in pain than he thought he'd be. Was probably due to the girl's lack of weight (thank god) contributing to her attack, relying on mostly strength to deliver her damage! It was still PAINFUL, don't get him wrong, he was gasping for air... but his ribs were still in tact so... that's a plus!

"Maldita sea todo... ¿Cuáles son las probabilidades de que un bello matón me patee el trasero ...?" He groaned, his yellow eyes staring up at Makoto defiantly. He couldn't find the strength to retaliate just yet... nor the position to do so if he did!

Mako might not have weighed a lot, but if there was one thing she’d mastered in her years as a fighter, it was learning how to use what size she did have to her full advantage. 120 pounds didn’t feel like a lot, but when it was coming down your from on high, driving in with a lot of speed and momentum? Oh, it could hurt. It would hurt. There was just no getting around it.

Raul would probably agree. If he could speak. In his own damn language.

For whatever reason, he decided to curse at her in...Spanish? She couldn’t be sure, wasn’t familiar with the Latin languages. She’d hung around Devine enough to know it wasn’t Portugese, but that was the most she could gather. Whatever the case, she damn sure didn’t like the way he was saying it. A lesson in respect was required.

She dropped down to one knee, planting it in the center of her chest to pin him down. Reaching down, she grabbed his hair with one hand and started unloading punches into his face with the other, making sure to target those defiant eyes as much as possible. ”What was that, bitch? Huh? Speak up!”

Mako was... uh... angry when she was beautiful, it seemed! Whatever was eating her up inside, beit that knee to her nethers or the fact that Raul wasn't using her... strange-tasting native language came out on the mexican in the form of SEVERAL punches to his head! The MUCH smaller woman GRABBED a fist full of his admittadly LONG hair (should've gone to the barber, stupid) and battered into his face, Raul bringing his arms up to defend himself... with as much success as one might expect when guarding against a little fire-cracker like Makoto was!

...Punch after punch and all Raul could do was try and defend himself... as the small, Japanese biker-lady ripped at his face with her knuckles! She demanded he speak up, that he reiterate what he had muttered in his moment of shock... but such things were difficult when blood was trailing out over his lips and down his chin, while fists were POUNDING into his cheeks and making it over-all unpleasant to speak!

...He would have to do something about that now, hmmmm...?

Suddenly a hand would shoot out and GRAB right at Makoto's face, his fingers WRAPPING around her head as the mexican would attempt to THROW the girl off of him... and if he succeeded, he would slowly rise, blood dripping off his chin, his jaw and cheeks now spotted with discoloration... and yet his yellow eyes seemed to have a small glimmer of joy in them!

"Such language is not fit a lady such as you..." Raul would remark with a smooth, gentle smile, the man raising his fists up in seemingly a boxing stance. "As for what I said... I was just remarking on your impressive strength... Impressive... but unfortunately futile."

Mako couldn’t lie - to herself, at least. She was enjoying this little bloody bout. Had been a long time, way too long, since she’d had a good street fight. She didn’t mind slugging it out in the ring, but she hadn’t had the chance to really sink her fangs into an opponent in far, far too long. It was a good, natural high, and she was almost tempted to thank Raul for not being a pussy and taking it.

Almost. Never going to happen. But almost.

She would’ve loved to do it all day, and she damn well might have, too, if there wasn’t the little problem of the referee ruining her day. ”Mako! Enough!” She called out, as if Mako wasn’t two feet away from her and could hear just fine. ”Don’t make me start the count!”

Mako was perfectly willing for her to start that count up and she would’ve milked that time for every second, but that wasn’t to be. He found a way to work past her onslaught, his hand went to her face, and the next thing he knew, she was getting hurled off like a child, her size doing no favors. She went to her back, and the momentum was enough to keep her flopping away to her chest, making a wide gap between them.

She took a moment to shake it off as she rose and he talked, and she would’ve happily rushed in - until she got wind of what he was saying. A complement? That was a new one. Took her off guard. Had her stunned, right up until that last word.

‘Futile’.

She gritted her teeth and broke into a full run, dashing hard straight towards him. The instant she was close enough, Mako leaped forward and shot her legs out, attempting to hit him with Shotgun Dropkick to the chest.

Ah, there was something attractive about how utterly impulsive and direct nature of Makoto. ...Granted, he wasn't quite sure exactly WHAT ABOUT IT tugged at his heartstrings... but there was something there, to be certain! ...Might've been a mild case of heartburn, however. He'd find out when he watched the after-tape later...

At the moment, he would take the feelings he felt for Makoto... and step out of her way with them, Stepping to the side as if he were a door opening in response to that drop-kick, swiveling on his heels as the smaller girl flew RIGHT by like a missile.... her boots grazing the edges of his now bloodstained shirt! Gravity would inevitably take hold of the smaller girl and drag her back down to earth... Coincidentally, the Mexican wrestler would soon follow, his elbow leveled RIGHT at the smaller girl's spine! Kicking his own legs out from under himself, Raul would CLUTCH his fist in his hand, THRUSTING his elbow down at Makoto, aiming to STUN her with a hearty helping of ELBOW DROP injected right into her back! Should his blow connect, the former gangster would waste little time in GRABBING at one of the girl's arms and JERKING it up her back similar to how cops would to restrain struggling ne'er do wells. His other hand would seek out Makoto's free one, pinning it to the floor as the man used his superior size and weight to PLANT his foe into the ground... His head slowly drifting down by the biker's ear.

"No tenemos que luchar, mi amor..." Raul whispered, his green eyes dulling softly as he whispered sweet nothings into Makoto's ear. "Do not think of it as surrender... More of... an escape..."

Missed. Shit.

There was a lot of risk/reward in Makoto’s moves, with her short stature meaning that, every time she was within an opponent’s grabbing range, she was in danger of being ragdolled by just about anyone. No regrets, living on the edge suited her well, but it wasn’t without its drawbacks. Like this one.

The moment she missed her dropkick and went flying past her smug little target, she knew there’d be pain coming her way for the failure, and she couldn’t have been more on the mark. She hit the ground, and his elbow came down on her before she could hope to scamper away, shooting deep into her back, right on the spine. She cried out and jerked up, only to have her arm seized and pulled tight behind her back. A rough, gripping hold, one that wasn’t made any easier to take when he decided to whisper sweet nothings in her ear.

Makoto, no surprise, didn’t understand the first few word he said, but she didn’t really need to. The tone was universal. Hot. Heavy. Lewd. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t get a shiver out of her…

...which was why she needed it to stop. Right-the-fuck now. ”I don’t do either.””That was the lone comment she had for him, before she jerked her back and swung it hard it to the side, looking to headbutt Raul in that sweet-talking mouth of his.

"I'm afraid you don't have much of a choic-" *BONK!* El Stupdio... EL STUPIDO, RAUL! He should've gotten a handle on her head before he even bothered with her hands... With her head under his control, he could've made her do whatever he pleased at the risk of harming herself should she fight him... Her strength would've been cut, her ability to fight back all but negated but no... And now he was paying for it with a bloody nose.

Makoto was a BOMB. That's the best way he could describe her. Stoic as the cold, iron shell of the explosive's exterior but he backed more of a punch than ANYTHING else her size! In his line of work, Raul remembered watching similar women Makoto's size get utterly CRUSHED by other girls only a few inches taller! Raul, though... the former LEADER of a gang that he had to fight and bleed to control... was being beaten by a small japanese woman with an attitude! For a moment, that angered him... OUTRAGED even! Makoto's attack sent the man flying off her, landing about foot behind her on his back, the man slowly picking himself with one hand, the other brushing under his nose to wipe away the red... His lips were curled into an angered snarl, his yellow eyes sharp, cutting...

...But then all that broke as he started to laugh! A gentle, almost relaxing chuckle washed over the ring as the Mexican fighter chortled away his frustration... acknowledging the absurdity of this battle! Here he was going head-to-head with a woman almost half his size... and was getting as good as he gave! He couldn't help but LOVE that he was struggling here... It's been a long time since he'd been... pleasantly surprised like this! Even with his nose red and throbbing, even with his body aching from Makoto's brutal and risky attacks, He was having some fun for once! Maybe Japan wasn't so bad after all!

"Terca como una mula, ¿eh Makoto?" He grunted lightly with a friendly smile, the former gangster cracking his knuckles one finger at a time on each hand. "This is perhaps one of the best fights I've gotten in years... Thank you."

Makoto couldn’t see the way her attack hit Raul - for obvious reasons - but she could feel it, and it sounded like a nice, nasty blow to be taking. It damn sure didn’t feel good on her skull, that was for sure, and she wasn’t even the one taking the brunt of the impact.

But it worked, that was the important thing. Raul was sent flying off of her, and she didn’t have his bulk on top of her anymore. That was always a bitch to deal with - her small size meant that once she was on the bottom, getting up was always twice the chore it would be for anyone else.

She pressed up, rolled forward and popped to her feet in one smooth movement, quickly getting back up into her fighting stance. Spin around, step forward, and-

”...what?”

He was laughing. Raul was laughing.

Makoto canted her head to the side, not sure what to make of this. Had she hit him that hard? No, that wasn’t it, and his words confirmed that much. He was just enjoying himself. Having the time of his life. And the more that she thought about it, the more she realized that she was too…

A smile, a hint of one, started to form on Makoto’s lips, but she had the good sense to shut that shit down before it got too wide. This wasn’t a play date, this was a match. One she was going to fucking win.

”You can thank me by shutting the fuck up!” Charging back in, Makoto stayed low and swung her leg out, looking to hit with a roundhouse kick aimed at his outer thigh, hoping to mess up his footwork a bit.

Ah, just because he was laughing didn't mean Raul forsook any sense of awareness! No, even as he chuckled and expressed his own sense of joy, he kept a close eye on his foe, she who's expression shifted through several different stages: Shock, confusion, a blooming sense of reciprocating enjoyment before it being QUICKLY stamped out by that rough, jagged, serious face of hers! He wondered what she was trying to prove with that tough-girl act... After all, even if she did not know it, that one little flicker of a grin gave him enough information about what she was truly like. This tough-girl act was a facade, at least in part, put on for SOMEONE'S benefit... and for some reason, he doubted it was his own. After all, she didn't seem like the kind of girl to give two shits and three quarters about what some guy thought of her.

...Could it be that someone was watching?

Whether or not they were, Makoto would charge in like a bull with it's head lowered, coming at Raul with seemingly reckless abandon! It was almost... kinda sat really as, like the bull she simulated, it would be like she had a pin in her neck, forcing her mind into a tunnel, her head down and bared...

...So Raul didn't move when Makoto SHOT her leg out, an easily identifiable technique... that SLAMMED into his thigh, not only screwing up his footwork, but taking out his entire leg! His yellow eyes widening, Raul FELL Back down to the ground, his reflexes FORCING his arm to shoot out, catching himself before his head it the floor, a BIG red mark starting to form across his thigh where he'd been struck!

Ah, well... He had is fun. He supposed it was only fair Makoto had hers.

Makoto didn’t know what was pissing her off more - that Raul was trying the hot boy act on her, or that it was actually working, in spite of her best efforts to fend it off. In her defense, it wasn’t like she’d ever gotten this sort of attention before. She’d had her flings, yeah, but mostly when she was the one pressing, the hunter. She was short, kind of flat, and didn’t stand for bullshit, qualities that didn’t exactly have the suitors lining up. And she was used to that. Okay with it.

And then came along this fucker. Flirting with her. Messing with her. Trying to get in her head with his stupid Casanova act. Did he really think that shit would fly? Dead wrong.

Those were the driving thoughts in her head when her kick connected, and all that aggression came in handy. Down he went, crashing hard, and his back was all exposed now, like a flipped over turtle. What to do, what to do.

Makoto thought about her next move for all of about half a second. She ducked down, then leaped straight into the air, getting about as high as she could. The great thing about being small was that it made this sort of thing easy - less weight, more height, and she was able to get big air.

That jumped was enough to carry her over Raul’s fallen from, and at the apex of the leap, she shot her legs down, letting gravity drive her boots into his chest with a crushing double heel stomp, looking to make his chest a stain on the canvas.