Cicilia De'Reighnhardt vs Akane Akyama: The Rage of Two Tempers!!!

It had been a rather long day. One spent doing nothing but chores and errands. A day of running from point A to point B without so much as a break as Akane had struggled to push everything she needed to do in a solid afternoon. After running all over the place, her stress levels had been creeping up, and eating away at her short fuse. She had almost gotten thrown out for arguing with the customer service desk after returning a broken item. They hadn’t returned the full amount to her account, and the only reason she wasn’t kicked out was because it turned out her complaint was valid.

After such an eventful day, all Akane wanted to do was lay in bed and get some sleep…after having a couple cans of liquid joy, of course.

The fiery brawler had gotten a decent enough buzz going to keep her somewhat calm. At least, that was what she thought until someone knocked on her door. Instantly, she became irritated at whoever was on the other side of that door. She had just come back from the outside world not too long ago, and now here it was, trying to drag her back out of her hole. The thought of ignoring whoever was at the door occurred to her, but after the person knocked a second time, her anger got the better of her patience.

Making a point to stomp across the floor, Akane swung her front door open with unwelcoming force and a stink eye for whoever was waiting for her. All she needed to see was the man’s dark hair and his patch to know exactly who he was. The only greeting he received was an annoyed “Tsk” to which he didn’t seem to mind.

“Nice to see you too.”

Drake didn’t wait to be invited in. He simply strolled into Akane’s apartment as he had done so often. Thankfully, she had just gotten back from shopping, so she actually had some decent clothes on.

“Why is it every time I come here, you’re laying on your futon and drinking beer? I thought I got you a job?”

“What are you? My mom? What the hell are you doing here?”

“I guess being your mom! No one has seen you in forever, and you haven’t had any matches or activity since you battered around Carmen’s brother…was his name Army? God it’s been so long…”

“I’ve just been taking it easy, get off my back already! It’s not like you get any fights anyway.”

Akane pushed past Drake in order to fall back on to her futon. Without even looking, she grabbed another can and cracked it open. She downed the entire thing within three gulps before crushing the can and tossing it over her shoulder. The empty can bounced off a stack that began to pile up in the corner, making a chorus of hollow noises of empty aluminum.

Drake narrowed his eyes considerably at the sight. He had been wondering about his former boss’s capabilities as of late. Once upon a time, Akane was the strongest person he knew. Even if she didn’t have his connections, she could forge her own path and create an empire using her own wits and instinct! If he followed her, there would be nothing but profit and power waiting for him.

But now he wasn’t so sure. She had become lazy, almost pitiful. She maintained her intimidating physique, but to what end? She had no aspirations of leadership, no goals to take a bite out of this leagues power struggle and keep a piece for herself. Drake was the one who made things happen, got the supplies a mastermind needed to get their schemes up and running. Drake was starting to think that Akane was growing soft…and it might be time to move on to a more ambitious leader to serve.

Which is why he had been devising a sort of test…one that should prove if his “friend” was still the violent and cunning brute he had served since he was a teen.

“You know…there has been some talk around the locker rooms, red…” Drake walked over towards Akane’s television, pushing empty beer cans aside so he could get to the DVD player and properly stick in a disk he brought with him, “You were making quite a splash in the locker room when you first came to the league…people were scared of you and worried about what you could do. But now, you have kind of faded away in their minds. Few even remember your short little stunts with Mako and Army. Now everyone has their eyes set on a new target…one that has been making headways in the AFW for some time now.”

The video that began to play was that of a shorter, but strong looking German woman. Her raven black hair seemed to constantly flow through the air as multiple clips of her pummeling her opponents with heavy strikes and jabs played out on the screen. It seemed every minute or so showed a quick clip of this woman knocking her opponent out with a malicious strike and earning a win. Each clip caught her fiery red eyes, the rage and determination that burned in them as she continued to knock each and everyone of her opponents out of her way with strength and rage alone.

“Her name is Cicilia De’Reignhardt. From what I understand, she has quite a temper…sound familiar?”

Akane stared at the screen for a bit, her eyes a bit glazed over due to the effects of the alcohol coursing through her. The girl named Cicilia kept knocking down opponents, one after another like it was nothing. The constant sounds of impacts actually began to annoy the drunk woman, and she eventually muted the volume on her television.

“So? What the hell do I care? Let them all watch some girl knock everyone around. It’s not my problem.”

Another empty can of beer was added to the pile as the red head popped open another drink and chugged it down like it was nothing. Her face was getting red, and she began to sway a bit, unsteady even as she was sitting down. The man didn’t mind her intoxication. It only added to Drake’s overall plan.

“Well, she has been making the rounds, certainly. Recently she participated in a Money in the Bank preliminary match. It wouldn’t be too far fetched at all to say she is one of frictions most brutal, and entertaining contestants in AFW…certainly the most high-profile boxer they have.”

“Boxer? I thought…I thought this was a wrestling place?”

“They take all kinds. The point is, she has had a steady stream of fights and maintained a great victory/loss ratio. Taking everything into account, I couldn’t help but wonder why you weren’t getting any fights.”

Drake leaned against the television set, staring at Akane as her dulled mind tried to catch up to what he was saying.

“I…already said…I’m…*urp*…busy!”

“I don’t think either of us believe that. In fact, I think there is another reason entirely.” Drake smiled his usual smug grin, watching as Akane slowly processed what he was saying, and waiting for her to comprehend what he said next. “I hear this Cicilia girl has been slagging you off~”

It took a minute for Akane to register what was said, but when she did, a look of confusion was all that was left on her face. “Wha?”

“Oh yes~ It seems our little firebrand has quite the penchant for you and your actions. She was utterly disgusted with your fling with Mako, and she heavily criticized your fight with Carmen and Army at that local gym. While you aren’t her exclusive target to verbally ravage, you seem to be a favorite of hers. When a couple of our crew had heard what she was saying, they even tried to jump her for you. She beat both of them very, very badly. Apparently, she criticized you further, saying how you were too scared to fight her after all. Naturally, I thought I should come to you first. After all, if she keeps acting this way…she may take every match the company could ever consider you for…then what would you do?”

“Wha…wait…She beat up…my guys…then said…I was a coward?”

Drake stared at drunk Akane. Just how much breath did he waste on this woman trying to get his point across? With a heavy sigh, he nodded.

“Yes, amongst other things.”

“THAT FUCKING BITCH!”

The red on Akane’s face was not entirely intoxication anymore. Her rage seemingly exploded like a stick of dynamite, and within seconds she was up on her feet, stomping around.

“GOD DAMN BOXING BITCH! SHE GETS A FEW WINS AND A COUPLE OF FIGHTS AND SUDDENLY SHE THINKS SHE CAN TALK SHIT?! HELL NO! I’LL BREAK EVERY BONE IN HER ARM! AND I’LL DO IT WHILE HER GOD DAMN LOVER OR MOTHER OR WHOEVER WATCHES! I’D BEAT HER ASS IN NO TIME FLAT! IF SHE THINKS SHES ALL THAT, WHY DOESN’T SHE GIVE ME A CHANCE?! I’LL SHOW THAT FUCKING SKANK!”

Drake simply nodded as Akane went about destroying her apartment. She knocked over her lampshade, smashed her furniture, and set about kicking her entire can collection across the room. All the while, Drake checked to see if he had the entire meltdown recorded on his device. As soon as he knew he got some rather juicy insults, he stuffed the device back into his pocket. He had what he needed from this place. Now, he just needed to wait for an opportunity to slip out unnoticed, so he could further his agenda.

--

The next morning, Akane’s head was pounding. She had way too much to drink the night before, and that was the only thing she knew at the moment. The red head could hardly remember what happened at all. The only thing that was evident was that her entire apartment looked as though a hurricane had hit it! Trash and broken furniture were everywhere, leaving the red head to only growl in annoyance as she tried to traverse her scattered floor. She stumbled a bit, but finally found her way to the fridge, opening it up to pull out a protein shake that she hoped wouldn’t be thrown back up if she drank it. It wasn’t until she closed the door that she noticed the handwritten note pinned to her fridge with a magnet.

Hello Akane,

Caught Cicilia on the way out. Told her you didn’t appreciate the way she worked. Heated words were exchanged. Fight on Thursday around one. see you there~

-Drake

P.s. The asprin is in a cup on the counter.

“Just…fucking…great…”

Cicilia had been taking a long break from the wrestling circuit since that... stupid battle with Manami. With now cuts clawed into her face, the Juggernaut had taken her time to recover... because screw this. She didn't care about this place anymore. AFW was full of crazy people, Nobody would ever leave her alone... And now Elfrida was here to ruin her life. Whatever. She had  enough money to sustain her rent and her need for groceries for a while, yet. ...and that meant she was going to hold up in her apartment until she HAD to come out. All she wanted to do was just... sleep... And so she did. For the first time since... well... she could remember, Cicilia spent all day and night hold up in her room, only occasionally coming out to eat, drink, or use the bathroom.

...It was humiliating... After all the big-talk the she threw Manami's way, after how she stood defiant against that idiot, she LOST! Not only did she lose, but now new cuts and scars were cut across her eyes... She couldn't believe it... When there was one, it was... easier to cover it up with makeup, to make it seem as if nothing was there... but there was no WAY she could hope to fix it now! ...She couldn't even tell how Sayumi looked at her... Knowing that this latest disfigurement could've easily been avoided. She couldn't even look at HERSELF now! It was hard ENOUGH to look at her body when she was in the shower, looking at all those marks cut and stabbed into her, how hideous and ugly she now was... Her face, though.... It almost was like she was wearing a horrible mask that was stapled to her head...

For the most part, Sayumi had left her to her brooding. What else could she do? After all, it was doubtful she was trying to see her on her own initiative. Probably just there to try and help a stupid, disfigured idiot try and feel better. Perhaps Sayumi was there because she had something important to say like "It's over" or something and couldn't very well leave without saying it to her mangled, revolting face... The face of a woman who couldn't even take care of herself, let alone someone she loved.

All these thoughts and worse ran through the German's mind like objects upon an assembly line, tears rolling down her cheeks as her fingers softly touched her newest marks. She couldn't make them go away... Even without feeling them, she could sense their presence... tingling, throbbing... ever-present...

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" She roared, HURLING her pillow at the door of her room... the poor thing slamming into the floor a few feet ahead. She HATED HERSELF for letting this happen... She ruined her life forever........

*DING*

.....

DING!

"What..."

Cicilia sat up in bed, her dried, tear-filled eyes glaring in the direction of her door. Who the hell was ringing the damn doorbell!? Didn't they see that she didn't want any DING! company!?

It wouldn't stop... Cicilia rolled herself out of bed, cracking the door open just a bit... Where was Sayumi...? Did... she go shopping or something...? She wasn't in the hall... Venturing into the living room... Nothing... She checked her phone... no messages... She... was really alone now...? Glancing at the door to the outside hall, the German opened it... only to find some guy with an eyepatch and suit offering her some video and telling her that someone was calling her out!

"So what?" She'd respond harshly, coldly, trying to get him to LEAVE. He only responded by showing her a recording... a recording of some idiot screaming and trashing and throwing everything around like an Elephant with a stick up it's trunk trashing her own place in what could only be an embarrassed temper tantrum! ...God it made her mad just looking at it...

What a fucking child. The temptation to just beat it out of her...

"When and where?"

________________________________________

When Sayumi got home... Cicilia took her in her arms and apologized for everything... For how she'd been acting for how callow she'd been... with tears in her eyes, she told her how much she loved her... and then showed it, putting her words to shame.

The next day, however, the Juggernaut wrapped herself up tightly in her hoodie (despite the ungodly heat outside, Her hood flicked up and pulled tightly over her face to hid her scars... Only her sanguine eyes peering out from the shadow. with one last goodbye to her girlfriend, Cicilia walked out into the streets... only feeling more exposed with her body hidden under heavy clothing.

“Honestly, I think it went rather well…”

The answer to the “where” part of the German boxer’s question was one she probably wouldn’t have expected. Rather than some back alleyway or some old abandoned basketball court like one might have expected from one of these types of backroom brawls, Drake had used his influence to snag an actual gym with a ring used for practice matches. The place didn’t have the most advanced setup in the world, with its fairly common place machines and equipment, but there was no fear of anyone calling the police to break up a fight, or the influences of the weather dragging any of the animosity out of the two brawlers. The place was clean, and it was tidy…not a bad catch, for only two days of preparation.

“She seemed enthused enough to come. She was glaring daggers at me the entire time, but I’m sure that’s just her every day appearance. Once I showed her the video with the audio in it, her eyes practically lit up! You should have seen-“

“DRAKE! Shut up already!”

While her one-eyed colleague seemed to be in a chatty mood, the fiery apocalypse really didn’t care to much about how this fight had happened, and more about when it was getting started.

“Did you even give her the right address? I feel like we have been here forever already. God, what time is it?”

“Twelve forty-five. I told her to be here around one, so she should show up any time now.”

“So irritating! And why did you bring those guys along?” Akane gestured to a group of people conversing on the other side of the ring, the so called “audience” for the violent brawl. While all of them were in various types of wear, from young men in the standard thug/punk wear to a woman in a black suit much like Drake’s own, the only thing they all seemed to have in common was the fact that they all appeared to be the type that would smash a passerby’s head with a pipe just for a clear shot at their wallets. “I thought this was just supposed to be between me and her?”

“It is. I just thought it would be more exciting to have a bit of an audience. Make sure you have witnesses to tell the tale of how you defeated one of AFW most violent and powerful competitors. Or, perhaps to witness you fail under the pressure~”

Before Drake knew what was happening, he was suddenly slammed against a wall and picked up by the collar of his suit and jacket, Akane’s eyes glaring at him from below as she let his feet kick around wildly, looking for any solid foot.

“Joking! I was only joking Akane! I’m sorry, I won’t do it again!”

The crowd only eyed the conflict with minor amusement, wondering if the tall, short fused fighter would beat down the one-eyed man with the extremely nervous smile. Perhaps they would get two shows today?

However, it was not meant to be. Akane simply dropped Drake on the floor, then leaned against the wall next to him to face the door way. It was a quick and easy way of making Drake step in line, and he was quick to stand up and adjust his suit while nervously eyeing the opposite direction.

The clock struck one, the red head glaring at the doorway as she impatiently tapped her foot. On one side was Drake, remaining quiet as he typed away on his phone. The other, the group of unwanted spectators that were waiting for events to unfold. Upon closer inspection, she recognized a pair of Drake’s cohorts, and a few of her old gang members. Great, now her own people would be watching her.

About five minutes passed before Akane eyes someone by the door, the person pausing only to read the sign of the gym above. The weirdo was dressed up in a heavy jacket, her Eskimo-like hood covering up the majority of her face. How she could survive walking around like that in this weather was beyond her. Akane herself had only brought a pair of ripped up jeans and a tight black rock band shirt due to the weather. She had her bomber jacket tied around her waist, but she hadn’t even thought about putting it on due to the outside heat.

When the figure finally entered, she nudged Drake with a bit of force to snatch his attention away from his phone.

“Is that her? Or is that one of your flunkies you forgot to tell me about?”

“No, that’s her. I recognize the jacket from some of her matches…bit hot out for that heavy a jacket though.”

“She’s shorter than I imagined…She better be worth the trouble.”

Pushing off against the wall, Akane approached the strange newcomer. Her burning eyes glared at the figure that hid its face in its hood with suspicion. She met her foe in the middle of the gym, looking at her hands to insure there were no weapons hiding in them. If Cicilia was like any of the other nutjobs she had faced, it wouldn’t have been too far fetched to think she would try to use a tool of some sort against her. Drake had already told her about Cicilia’s use of knuckle dusters on the way to the gym.

Akane gave Cicilia a dirty look, placing her powerful arms on her hips as she stared down at this strange creature, her body and face hidden in her puffy jacket.

“Hey, you Cicilia? The fucks with your jacket? Are you trying to hide something?” Akane barked her questions like they were orders, the gang behind her watching in anticipation to see how exactly this new girl would stand up to their exalted leader, whom had earned her place from glory and strength in their pack of fighters and crooks.

As Cicilia drew close to the annointed location, the boxer had taken note of the various other thugs that surrounded their little ring... including the one-eyed man that had given her Akane's challenge on her behalf. Were they here to watch... or were they waiting for her, specifically? Somehow, Cicilia didn't think that this group of spectators were here just to watch a fight... Call it a hunch but she didn't trust Drake, he and his sketchy eye-patch... But then, she would've been a coward if she walked out on a challenge. Glancing between all the unwanted visitors, her sanguine eyes finally fell on the once-drunk, explosive red-head as she walked RIGHT up to the Juggernaut in the center of the gym, their eyes meeting in a heated glare... She stood taller than Cicilia, a good 3 inches or so, no doubt trying to intimidate her with their difference in size... Whatever. She's been fighting with a disadvantage her whole life. As if a few inches would save her...

Without a word of response to Akane's taunts and accusations, Cicilia shed her jacket in one, fluid move, slipping her arms out and TOSSING the heavy article of clothing behind her... revealing just what she was hiding. Across her eyes were fresh, ugly scars, jagged and imprecise like they were inflicted using human nails, the complete contrast being shown with the cuts and scarred over puncture wounds that decorated her abs, sides, arms and along her upper chest. smooth, slicing, these scars covered her lower body in an uneven pattern, a perfect summation of the scars she carried on her within as well.

"What do you think?"

She had nothing to say to someone so beneath her that would send a LACKEY to challenge her while drunk. No threats to be made or idiotic accusations like Akane herself would sling. It was tempting to think of her as a disgrace, someone who would get themselves hammered just to be BRAVE enough to challenge someone like her. It was tempting to think of this girl as just another pathetic upstart (seeing as she hasn't been on TV since last century) trying to get some attention... If only hubris didn't come with acknowledging such truths.

The form hiding beneath the jacket was a mis mash patchwork of various scars and jagged wounds that had never healed properly. Every piece of bare skin had at least on scar that adorned her muscular figure, rewards for the countless battles and hardships she had endured. The sinewy flesh all stuck out, making Cicilia appear as though she were a monster fresh from the grave. If it were not for the angry gaze and the passionate fury raging in her eyes, perhaps that would be exactly what some of the spectators thought she was. Some had heard of her exploits, both in and out of the ring. There were many in that group of spectators that would never have come to this fight alone. Akane seemed to be the only one disappointed at the view.

“Hmm…looks like you need to work on your defense, champ. Seems like quite a few people already kicked the shit out of you a good three or four times…hardly seems fair.”

Akane had her own collection of battle damage and scars, but they didn’t take up nearly as much space on her body as Cicilia’s did. In fact, almost all of the red head’s wear and tear were focused on her arms and hands. There were dozens of nicks and cuts that ran from her fingers down to her forearms. Some were clear and clean, likely made by blades or weapons. Other’s were more jagged and shallow, possibly from grazing teeth or wounds from lack of protective gear. She was sure of her combat prowess, and despite years of brutish street brawling, she had yet to get any noticeable cuts on her face.

It was their leader that seemed to root most of the members there, ready and willing to see who would emerge victorious. The fact the Akane seemed to blow Cicilia off did not come off as cocky towards her underlings…to them, she really was that strong.

Drake was the first to step forward, approaching the scarred boxer and subtly putting himself in between her and the apathetic red head. He seemed to be one of only two in the group without a spark of fear in their eyes when they looked upon the female boxer. The other was the woman in a black suit, who trailed behind Drake subtly, before walking past the small trio in order to pickup Cicilia’s coat. The woman swiftly began to pick through the German’s pockets, to which Drake politely smiled at Cicilia.

“Welcome Cicilia! It’s so nice of you to come and indulge our little wager. I hope your trip was an easy one.” With a practiced smile, he gestured towards the woman digging though her discarded garments. “Please forgive our brief dive into your private affairs. We are only interested in the safety of both parties involved. To comply, we are requesting no weapons be brought into this fight.”

“Drake. Got one.”

The woman pulled out a knuckle duster, the tips of it slightly worn due to use before neatly folding the jacket across her arm. Drake’s calculating eye flashed a quick gleam of pleasure as it went from his subordinate to the boxer in front of him.

“Ah, well since you had no idea about the rule, we won’t hold it against-“

“Just let her use it if she needs to! God Drake, do you always drag everything out?”

Drake’s smile crumpled as his boss got impatient with him. Normally, his face was a perfect mask that hid his emotions well, but while his back was turned, that masked cracked a little bit. A look of irritation and insubordination flashed across his face in a way only the German in front of him could see before he whirled around towards the larger woman, speaking to her in a much more personal tone.

“I told you, there has to be some ground rules! We all still technically work for that AFW for the moment, and I hate to say it, but the bastards upstairs have a lot more influence than I do! If you two kill each other, or maim the other too badly, I can’t fix it!”

Akane crossed her arms and moaned in annoyance. That was always one of the problems with Drake, at least in her opinion. He was crafty, he could follow orders, get supplies no one else could, and had a knack for striking beneficial deals that Akane could never hope to achieve herself. He was a great right-hand man, but when it came to combat, he fell painfully short. He was the type that used tricks or numbers in order to win his battles. He could never judge a fight in anyway other than through a cowardly eye. He judged everything by the worst-case scenario, and tended to make a break for it if things didn’t go his way. He had no idea the limits actual fighters could break when they went at each other, nor how quickly a fight could end when one completely overwhelmed the other.

“Trust me, it isn’t going to get that far.”

Spoiler:

The red head turned away and began to walk towards the ring, the spectators clearly favoring her with smiles and minor encouragement. It wasn’t too surprising they would root for their leader, nor should it be. Drake and his subordinate watched her leave before returning their gaze to their “guest”.

“Trust her, she says…” His eye danced across the knuckle duster in the woman’s hand, his fake smile slowly crawling back on his face, “Well, I do hope you are ready, Cicilia. We will give your weapon back at the end of the fight…should you be knocked unconscious, or seriously hurt, my assistant will take you to the proper facility, or perhaps your home.”

The woman that eyed Cicilia did so with lifeless, half lidded grey eyes. Her natural glare seemed to look right through the boxer, but she nodded towards the boxer in a manner that might have been an attempt at being reassuring.

“Anyways, good luck. I’m sure our fearless leader will give you a fight to remember. Heh heh heh heh~”

"Shut up. Nobody asked you for advice." Cicilia stated flatly. "You'll have more to worry about than my defense in a moment." Cicilia didn't seem to respond to Drake as he went and oh, so sleezily welcomed her to this seemingly unofficlal match, even when he stepped between her and her opponent. She was far too focused on the people DIGGING THROUGH HER JACKET behind her, the boxer's sharp, sanguine eyes glaring at the strangers over her shoulder as they opened every pocket she had and rifled through them! Drake explained that this "precaution" was merely for the safety of everyone involved, so that nobody got seriously injured and whatnot... And the look Drake got in response... was one that looked like it could melt stone.

"What kind of scum do you take me for?" Cicilia asked, a genuine question amidst a low growl. "You think I brought that here for her? What, do you think me so weak, I can't put up a fight against that red-head? What a joke." No sooner did the German finish did the thugs pull out the pair of knuckles Cicilia kept tucked in her pockets, the boxer seeming to grow even more angry as the one who had found them... pocketed them herself! Before Cicilia could protest, Akane seemed to speak up, outright defying Drake's wishes and stating Cicilia could have them back... even to use them in this fight. Cicilia's anger-filled expression was soon tainted with aspects of surprise, her eyes widening just as she and Drake began arguing with each other over the rules!

...This had to be some kind of joke, right? Akane argued it wouldn't even make that much of a difference, Drake argued that if it did, there was going to be some kind of legal issue... Both figures... only serving to quietly and insidiously insult the Juggernaut... whether they knew it or not! Akane essentially claimed that Cicilia was SO far below her, not even armed with metal-coated punches would she be a threat! Drake essentially called her a coward, assuming that she would use every advantage she was given, that she had no damn pride or ego... Bastards!

"BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP!" She yelled over them, her sanguine eyes alight, their glow seeming to consume the entirety of her eye-sockets! She turned to Akane. "You... I don't need weapons to CRUSH you, drunkard. I don't need your pity and I don't give a damn about your arrogant posturing. Shut up and get in the ring... I'll be with you in a minute." She turned to Drake. "And you... I don't need you to defend me. I want my damn knuckles back at the end of... whatever this is supposed to be. I don't have time for that salesman smile or your pleasantries. I'm only here to kick her ass." The boxer nodded back towards the ring. "And she better put up a fight... Or you'll be utterly humiliated and I'd have wasted my evening."

Without another inflamed word, the Juggernaut made her way towards the ring, slipping inside... before squaring right up with Akane, locking eyes with her instantly! She said nothing else fore she thought her point was made, the boxer having no respect for this woman now... only a desire to bash her to shards.

Cicilia’s angry bellow shook everyone in ear shot, all of the spectators spreading out or taking a step back, as if to avoid her line of site. Even the suited woman, who had wrapped Cicilia’s weapon up in a handkerchief and placed it into her pocket retreated as the German’s illuminated eyes seemed to spell doom to all who would cross her. Only Drake seemed unaffected by the angry fighter directly in front of him. It wasn’t because he was braver, or because he wasn’t intimidated by Cicilia. He was simply used to this type of blood thirsty outburst coming from the brawler who was waiting in the ring. Her scarred arms were still crossed as she glared at the smaller foe below. Akane had a slight grin on her face, enjoying the view of Cicilia totally reaming Drake out.

The sneaky second simply gave a curt nod towards the boxer and tossed a quick “As you wish~” before stepping out of Cicilia’s way, watching as she ascended the ring with a dangerous glint in his eye. The woman in the suit approached him, standing beside him as her dull eyes seemed to once again stare through the hostile woman.

“Were you telling the truth? About helping her if she loses?”

“Still deciding on that. Maybe if she wins…or at the very least, puts on a show.”

--

The brawler stood across from her fiery foe, making no move to approach her as she climbed into the ring and immediately squared off against her. She was doing her best to look tough, Akane would give her that. Still, the red head had a few inches on her, a more muscle mass to work with. She knew from the videos Drake had shown her that Cicilia was closer to a powerhouse rather then a speed boxer. If that was the case, it was a simply matter of overpowering her. Paired with her naturally ability to strategize, and Akane was pretty sure she had this girl beat. Maybe if she were taller, she would worry about her.

There was no bell to start the fight, just a mutual understanding that whoever made the first move would start combat. Akane didn’t bother to wait around, already getting impatient. She moved into a fighting stance and quickly advanced on Cicilia. The boxer probably wasn’t stupid, so it was likely a guard of some kind would be raised. It was Akane’s plan to absolutely hammer and destroy such a guard, DRIVING her fist down with the force of a wrecking ball right down onto Cicilia’s scarred face!

The brash brawler wouldn’t stop there. She was going to run right through this poor girl, the one who deemed herself stronger than her. Right after her powerful opening, Akane’s other fist would swing and look to pound the side of her foe’s head, hailstorm of blows repeatably falling onto the vile German’s defense!

It seemed there would be no signal that would indicate the start of their battle, the beginning of which being entirely dictated by the participants! Cicilia would've thought that, after dragging her down here, these people would've done something to make this more proper... But then, the fact they didn't showed how little they cared... Perhaps even about the outcome... or about how either of them would be at the end of this fight!

Cicilia's contemplation allowed Akane the first attack, a DAMN powerful punch STRAIGHT down at the boxer's face! As strong as it may have been, it was as damn predictable an attack as it could've been, the German's hand SHOOTING up in defense, catching the red-head's hand as her fingers fitted neatly between her knuckles! The sound of the impact was like a gun POP as the Juggernaut held her ground, her lips curled into a snarl, her arm shaking slightly as she absorbed the shock of the attack! She wasn't done, yet, however, the woman bringing her other arm around, RIPPING at the German's head with a MONSTROUS hook at her skull... one, the boxer JUST BARELY had time enough to defend herself against! Cicilia JERKED her head away from the oncoming blow, her free arm SHOOTING up JUST between Akane's fist and her skulli, the woman's knuckles digging into her forearm instead!

"Tch." Cicilia grunted, both arms now actually struggling against the notable might of Akane... Damn it... She's strong... Almost as strong as me!... Perfect... Slowly, a smile would curl up at the corners of the German's lips, her forearm guard shooting down to CATCH Akane's other fist as well, both of her hands entrapped by the Juggernaut's! Finally, she had someone who could match her in power... Her previous rivals were so busy with their lives, they NEVER got to fight... It had been so long since she had someone she could sink her teeth into, someone she could go toe to toe with....

"Lets see if you're tough enough..." The boxer growled, SUDDENLY pulling Akane in by her hands, the boxer RAISING a knee HIGH into her solar plexus, aiming to FORCE the air out of her! She wouldn't stop there, though! She quickly followed up by releasing one of Akane's hands, bringing her own back... muscles flexing, fingers curling into a fist... before shooting it UP into her jaw in an ugly, SAVAGE uppercut!

Despite the videos of Cicilia pounding dozens and dozens of foes with hardly any effort involved, and despite her many battle scars that littered her body like so many patterns, Akane didn’t think much of her. She was trained, sure, but Akane had crushed trained fighters before. Her first professional fight was with an Olympic gold medalist’s brother, one who was bigger and likely stronger than her…and she still came out on top.

What could some smack talking bitch Drake found do to her?

The first punch was meant to end it all if it landed. If Cicilia guarded against the blow, Akane would be sure to break it apart with absolute force. So long as she continuously beat down any attempt Cicilia made to mount an offense, then there would be no issue. Akane never thought of this event as a fight. This was a simple show, a message to send to the loud mouth that thought she could spout shit and get away with it. As soon as Cicilia dropped from Akane’s strikes, she would leave her be. Unlike some of her more vile companions, the red head had no desire to beat the life out of this girl. A swift beating would be all that is required.

When Akane’s fist finally made impact, a loud and odd sounding POP rang through the gym. The brawler immediately knew something was off. Her knuckles definitely impacted flesh and bone, but not the kind she was looking for. The larger woman was in the middle of realizing exactly what had happened when she threw her second punch! The second hook was enough to knock a lesser fighter out, but the smaller girl managed to mitigate the power of the street fighters blow using her forearm. But that wasn’t what Akane was focused on.

Cicilia had caught the strike Akane had intended to use in order to break this girl.

The two women pushed against each other, Cicilia’s arm struggling to hold back the sheer force Akane was putting in, but still doing a remarkable job. The spectators didn’t seem to believe that this newbie had caught their leader in a powerful grip, and was actually holding her back. The devil of the streets was actually being restrained by a boxer of all people! Akane herself seemed perplexed, though her composure was never shaken as the boxer seized her second arm.

Akane’s eyes watched this surprisingly strong girl with a glare. Their power was…equal to each other? The red head wasn’t sure what exactly was going on, but this was far from what she had expected the show to go.

With a tug that could pull a truck, Cicilia heaved Akane down onto her knee! The brawler’s powerful abs took the brunt of the blow. Her knee was like a jackhammer smashing into concrete, but the only reaction Akane seemed to have was a low grunt as air was forced from her lungs. The next shot happened quickly, with the larger woman’s head snapping back from the blow. To her credit, Akane was still standing, and the reason why she was once the leader of such a group of dangerous people became readily apparent.

As if the previous uppercut were little more than a breeze in the wind, Akane lowered her eyes back towards her spunky opponent, a newfound fire in her eyes as she grinned in a sinister manner. The arm Cicilia had a grip on quickly latched onto the boxer, keeping her close and purposely squeezing her arm tightly. With her free arm, Akane reached over and snagged onto her opponent’s top, pulling her in a similar manner that Cicilia did.

“An eye for an eye, my friend.”

With a heave, Akane planned on lifting her smaller opponent into the air just so she could slam her into the ground with a merciless impact! A boxer was used to taking strikes, so naturally, the terrifying tactician figured a heavy slam attack would be a great way to shake Cicilia’s nerves, unaware of her foe’s wresting background.

Cicilia's attacks HAMMERED into Akane, hitting RIGHT on their marks with absolutely no resistance or even the attempt of such! Her knee DROVE into the red-head's abs, her uppercut SLAMMING into her jaw... But instead of seeing a face of anger... of pain... Akane slowly pulled her head back into position, seemingly unaffected by the boxer's attacks at all! Well... this was fucking new... Even if her older sibling was hit, she didn't just brush it off like nothing had happened! In fact, Cicilia had never met a woman in her LIFE that just took one of her punches in STRIDE like that! It was almost incredible... If not so unbearably frustrating!

In response, Akane muttered something about eyes before lifting the German up by the front of her work-out top as if she were a giant lifting up a child! Cicilia's eyes widened, even to the point she completely dropped the fist she had held hostage, her hands instead shooting up to GRAB the wrist that held her instinctively! Again... nobody's ever treated her like this before! In battle, it was always a head to head struggle... This girl was just completely toying with her! ...Just what kind of fight had she gotten herself into!?

"Let me go, you big dumb-" Before she could even complete her thought, Akane lifted and SLAMMED Cicilia into the canvas with enough noise to think an ANVIL had fallen through it! The boxer gagging in pain, her eyes clenching shut as the Giant red-head just BLASTED her into the ground! For a moment, she was stunned... Cicilia lay spread-eagle on the floor, still in Akane's grip, the boxer just trying to understand what happened... How this could have happened... What an embarrassing start this was.

...But she wouldn't let it continue, god-DAMN IT!

Suddenly, the boxer's legs would SHOOT up, wrapping around Akane's arm like a pair of snakes coiling around a branch, the German using her lower body strength to try and THROW the woman to the floor... leaving her in the perfect position for an absolutely agonizing arm-bar!