Putting Out Fire With Gasoline

As much as Army wanted to enjoy this little victory over Imugi, he knew it was just that - a little victory. She’d get the jump on him with something else and even the score, then he’d have to find a way to bring it back to her, and there’d be a challenge after that, and a challenge after that. It was the sort of back and forth he loved. Wouldn’t have it any other way.

His wallet might’ve felt different, though.

Army’s eyes did hard roll off to the side as Imugi draped herself over him, and he playfully pulled away at first, only to lean back into her, nuzzling a bit. Loved the way her voice made his ear tingle - would never have thought someone that small could sound so sexy, but she had a way of proving him wrong in a lot of things. ”I didn’t, matter of fact.” He rifled through his wallet, sifting through a few bills, then laid the right amount on the bar, with a little extra for the service. Not a bad price, really. Good food, nice and quiet, he’d be back.

”No big deal.” He rubbed the spot when she patted him and shoved his wallet away, then slid out of the seat. ’Things go right tonight, I’ll earn it all back, anyway.”

The address, as it turned out, only got to the two of them close to where they needed to be, a tattoo parlor on the end of an otherwise unremarkable string of stores in a cozy corner of Kyoto. It was open later than you’d think such a place would ever be, and when they came inside, they found out why.

The artist inside was busy working on a client, but she thumbed them towards the back without a word. As they got closer and closer, they could hear a steady beat emanating from the end of the hall, down a staircase that led into the basement. They followed the stairs, came to a door with lights emanating from the other side, and opened the door to find...


If Army had to describe it, he’d call it a dirty version of the Tension arena. The audience was stacked, a mix of men and women , the same kinds he would see hanging around ringside. The college kids looking for a fun night on the town, the fetishists decked out in leather and wanting to get their kink fix on a live stage, the enthusiasts, taking bets. There were a few women going around serving drinks to those who were willing to pay for it, and they were decked in cosplay, wearing even skimpier versions of some of the AFW’s most popular wrestlers - a couple of Silver Aces, a Cecilia Northman, and even one guy that found a pretty spot-on version of his old boxing attire, with a spray tan to help match up the skin. Weird, but it all kind of made sense the more he thought about it - the AFW was big money, and these minnows were trying to nibble on what the biggest fish left behind, giving people the cagefighting experience they wanted with some of the AFW’s style.

But the biggest difference was the cage in the middle of it all. A solid, tall, steel structure with eight sides, surrounded a padded floor with plenty of room at the top. Barb wire at the top to give it that menacing look, but Army suspected it wasn’t just for show - he could’ve sworn he saw a little red on certain parts of when they got close, so somebody had learned the hard way.

Army found himself looking over it all, just a little taken back by the sight, looking over it with wide eyes. He’d been told this place was something special, but this wasn’t quite what he’d been picturing.

”Huh.” He finally got over it enough to shrug, as his gaze locked on to the fight going on in the cage. Looked like a three-way sort of match, two women and one guy going back and forth, no team, with the smaller, slender woman dressed in a black bikini getting the better of things. Seemed like she was trained in judo, if he had to guess. ”Thinking we came to the right place.”

When Army stepped into the tattoo parlor, her mind was already working overtime on the gags she could assault him with from the moment they entered until they left. It was a long list, would take a lot of work, but she’d been in tighter spots when pressed for a joke. The idea made sense. He was a big guy; a lean, mean, scary boxer with a lot of hunky body to work with. But she already decided she was going to poke fun of whatever design he had in mind. Half to kill the time, half to see what faces he'd make.

The time she spent on that meant she wasn't prepared for the sight that came at the end of the stairwell. Spacious, flashy, and surprisingly busy. The sight hit her with all the surprise of a freight train. Waiters, drinks, a whole cage, and was that barbed wire? Wow, Japan had everything.

"Yup." Imugi plucked a bottle from one of the servers that passed in front of them, the bunny ears from her Death Bunny cosplay flopping all around in front of Army's face. She took a sip and immediately spit it out, facing the waiter sour-faced. "Diet?"

The girl only shrugged back and kept on walking. Imugi clicked her tongue and chucked the practically-full bottle away behind her before finally turning her attention back to the cage. Not a bad set-up all things considered. The best venue she ever managed in Korea was an old construction site, fighting in a literal pit with concrete walls. It got points for subtlety even if it was nowhere near as cozy as this.

The smell was the same at least. Alcohol, cigarettes, and everything visceral in-between. The first two were particularly bad with all the people hanging around the rafters. Quaint. She looked to Army and bumped him with her elbow. “Let’s go down to the third row. Close enough to see the fights and everyone’s skill levels, but it’s not too close, y’know? You’ll be surprised how much blood doesn’t stay in the ring.”

As they moved down the stairs, Imugi stole a look in the ring. The lady in the bikini was tearing it up. She had the larger guy down in an armbar, but seemed to be having a hard time of it. The voices around them were shouting randomly and indiscriminately, the usual helpful advice. When they reached their seats, right on the aisle, Imugi didn’t sit right away and only watched the cage for a second. Long enough to see what was going on.

“Bikini! Black bikini! Is this fighting or karate practice?!” The woman glanced her way, clearly peeved. “Tuck in closer, turn the wrist! Come on!” One moment of deliberation and the woman tucked herself in and yanked forward again. This time she got the holler she was looking for. She looked back to Imugi and threw a thumbs-up her way...which let her get blindsided by a kick from the third party.

“Whoops. Sorry.” She probably couldn’t hear that. Ah well. Imugi sat on the bench beside Army, stretching her arms to the air before she rested them at her sides as she leaned back in her seat. “And just because I know you’re thinking it: no. That guy is looking way better than you did when we met.”

Army had been taking the sights, trying to get a grasp of the setup here and figure out where that faint vinegar smell in the air was coming from, when his meandering train of thought came to a sudden stop, forced on hold by, of all things, a pair of floppy bunny ears. While that was less of a uncommon sight in Japan than just about any other place on the planet, it was still enough to take him off guard, and he got the impression it wouldn’t be the first time such an occurrence happened tonight.

For now, though, he was fine just following along with Imugi and taking in the sights. He shot his hand up to catch the bottle she flung over her shoulder, brought it around behind his and scored two-points in a nearby trashcan...or would have if it hadn't’ been filled to bursting. There was a decent crowd out tonight, keeping the staff busy, and from what he knew about places like this, janitor weren’t high on their list of priorities.

He made his way down behind her, nearly slipping on what he was pretty sure used to be a half-eaten donut before his heel demolished it, and planted his butt down beside Imugi. Kicking his legs out, he let them rest on the unoccupied seat in front of them, stretching out all the way.

”What’s that? You think so?” Army rubbed the ear on her side, making sure he was hearing her right. ”When we met, when we met, oh right! That match where I damn near powerbombed you through the ring. That match.” He leaned over enough to tap the side of her skull with his own.

How many guys could look back and not be fucking psychos for remembering the time they nearly knocked their significant others out? Not many, he’d bet.

Army waved one of the waitress’ over, one with a more risque version of Alaina Sander’s singlet, and waited for her to make the trip through the throngs as the battle raged on inside. The guy wasn’t doing too bad - he’d seen worse in Tension. The two women were going at each other for the moment, giving him time to roll over and recover, and he threw himself back in just as the blonde was getting the better of things. Catching her from behind with a sloppy chokehold, he was trying his best to haul her away and knock her out before the other woman could recover, but she was fighting hard every inch of the work.

”Shit, man, even I can do a rear naked right! Come on!” He crossed his legs and reached over to give Imugi a quick poke in the abs. ”So, how you want to do this? I’m thinking I’ll go in, get a match, come out even with you. Then you and me can tear the house down.”

No, she didn’t at all forget about she was almost powerbombed through the ring.

Nor when he kicked her in the face and put her flat on her back. Or when he grabbed her by the leg and swung her around like a ragdoll. Or when he jumped off the top of the ring and almost squashed her with two-hundred pounds of solid death. Mostly because she could still feel a couple of those, in one or two places. But it wasn’t all unfamiliar to her. She’d been hit worse. He was really strong, it would have been close, but she would have kicked out of it.

Yeah. Totally.

Imugi had to admit though, she was kind of looking forward to seeing how Army did in the cage. She knew firsthand a thousand times over how well he could fight, with all of their tussles playing on a loop inside of her head since she finally saw his face again. She knew he would do well, but from what she could tell, he was more of a professional. In a ring, there were rules, expectations, a right and wrong way you were expected to behave and present yourself. Guess it was a lot like idol work in that way.

But now that she was here and she saw how into this he was actually getting, her impressions were starting to change ever so slightly. Not in a million years did she think she’d be able to bring someone to a place like this and actually have a good time. She didn’t make her feelings obvious, but it was why she had the faintest hint of a smirk growing on the opposite side of her face. It almost broke free when he gave her abs a poke, deflecting that finger like a bullet.

“Look, if you’re just gonna read my mind, don’t feel the need to ask.” She reached up and gave his nose a quick flick from under with her finger. “Mr. Two-To-One.” Her hands went behind her head as she relaxed in her seat, watching the man in the cage finally getting a decent lock on the blonde once her strength started to die down.

The incredibly subtle reminder of his score done, Imugi let her sleepy gaze wander from the cage for a moment and scouted the scene. All the potential competition looked pretty hardy, but nothing exceptional. One guy with a solid pair of arms and what looked like a black belt, a man with some intense face tattoos going on a few rows behind him. Wonder if he was a regular upstairs?

The Korean girl shrugged and brought her attention back, not wanting to take her attention away for too long. She put her hands back on the bench and nodded her head along to some trashy music they started playing behind her. “I like your plan, though.” She spoke a bit louder. “Devious. You’re gonna rob everyone of their bets.”

”That’s the idea, yeah.” Army shrugged, doing his best to look innocent. Probably wouldn’t have worked, even if Imugi hadn’t known him better than that. Which she did. ”Probably won’t be too welcome here for a while after this, sure, but that’s the price you pay. They’ll cool down in a few months.”

Sure of himself and damned sure of Imugi, he did some scanning over the competition, too, following the same way Imugi’s gaze had went a moment before. She hadn’t looked to impress, sure, but she didn’t look too impressed by much anything. It was part of her charm, and the reason it was so satisfying when he actually could squeeze some sparks out of her. But he wasn’t seeing too much of anything here that impressed him. Not that any of the competition looked like scrubs, but they weren’t setting the world on fire, either.

If could’ve looked in the back and saw two of the fighters who weren’t out in the open, however, he might’ve had a different opinion. That is, if he could muster coherent thoughts while he watched them in their current state.

Moon Sin-Jae was enjoying a particularly dark corner of the backstage area, a quiet little place nestled amongst some crate, where she didn’t have to worry about passerbys getting a free show. She didn’t need it for anything serious, really, just a little warmup of sorts. She’d come here dressed to fight, decked out in the same style gi that she wore to her official matches, even took the trouble of doing her hair up in the oxhorns. She would look ready to go physically, but she needed a little more to get her juices going. That was where Zoey came in.

Sin had her ‘pupil’ up against the wall, pressing one of her hands up above her head while she let her fingers slide along the younger fighter’s back side. She worked her knee between those tender thighs and leaned in close to give her neck some attention. A kiss. A lick. A bite. She would gnaw, suckle, and blow along her skin, and any attempt to squirm was met with a hard push, slamming Zoey back against the wall.

It was just a way of getting in the ‘mood’ for these fights, and it was one of many uses she’d come to use Zoey for since they hooked up. The woman was ideal for so many things - a sparring partner, a sandbag, a fuckbuddy, a squeezetoy. She was taking well to Sin’s training, too, showing some improvement, not that she had much choice in the matter. If she couldn’t keep up, if she faltered, it would end up with her as a barely breathing bloody mess on the floor, and she knew it. A good incentive to improve. Unorthodox as fuck, but it worked, and Sin knew how to reward progress with pleasure. It wasn’t all about the stick. She could use the carrot, too.

”So fucking good.” Sin pulled away from Zoey’s neck and stood on the bare balls of her feet, rising up enough to equal their height and meet her student face-to-face. She brought their lips close, grazing them, so each heated word she spoke slipped between their lips. ”This is it, the big show. You ready?”

On a personal note, Imugi had always wanted to be a part of a get-rich-quick heist. Not that she needed the money, especially not with all the dividends her Korean fanbase alone could meet. It seemed like messing with people was in her blood, a need as natural as sleeping and eating. Maybe that was the reason for the dumb smile on her lips.

And for those of you wondering: no. This is not at all how Zoey pictured her first visit underground.

This was her first time anywhere near an illegal racket. She’d heard plenty of stories about them since she’d relocated to Japan and was beyond desperate for something to kill the boredom. When her first visit to AFW didn’t exactly go as planned, she thought a run in the less than legal circuits would be a good way to earn her stripes. Easy cash for easy competition.

But then Sin just had to come into her life and make her feel about two inches tall. Her life had been hell for months now. Even now the bruises and welts lining her body were just clearing up. The last week had been the easiest she'd had in a long while, and only because Sin decided they stop training altogether. Zoey had no idea what for until the day of, when all she got was an address, and it all made sense. She wanted her nice and rested for tonight.

They weren’t early, not for the decent seats. Even now Zoey wasn’t sure how she found herself up against the wall in the dark, and most of her didn’t care. Each nip against her skin drew a light moan from her lips. Their legs brushed together in a teasing sensation that built between her legs, urging for more. At this point, the Korean knew every nook and cranny of her body, every sweet spot to play her body like a flute. With one hand pinned up high, Zoey’s free one hesitantly found its way Sin’s bare side and didn’t move an inch from it. It was a predatory and primal instinct that made her blood run cold to the touch. She couldn't so much as wiggle caught in this spider's web, and by now her body knew better than to dare an escape.

When Sin came up to meet her face, she couldn’t draw her eyes away. The taste on her tongue pinched her tight. She wanted to bark, but getting beaten to a pulp wouldn’t exactly be the best start to tonight. “Yeah. Psyched.”

Zoey let her eyes roam up and down her body one more time, taking its familiar route and taking in some new sights. “So, uh...what’s with the Rita Repulsa getup?”

Sin closed her eyes and had a little laugh at Zoey. A genuine one, not the crueler, crazed, sadistic one that her little playmate had no doubt come to pair with all their fun, private activities. All this time, and her student still couldn’t figure out how to read the room with her. She was nervous, understandable, both from her upcoming fight and what she knew would likely be coming her way after, and that could make her a little jittery. Still a work in progress, this one.

After she spoke, Sin pressed up against her against her even harder - not too hard, though. She’d gotten a good feel for the sweet spot with Zoey, figured out just the right amount of pressure to keep her squirming, what positions heated her up and which ones cooled her back down. Pressing their legs together like this was a prime way to get them fired up. All the work they both did below the belt made their thighs more sensitive than most, tenderized their muscles, and it wasn’t often they could brush up against a pair of legs so similar to their own. Oh, and Sin couldn’t forget to run a hand over those taut abs. Firm and strong, but still tender from all the kicks she’d drilled into them a couple of weeks ago, she’d bet. Not enough to slow her down tonight, but she was certain there were still some lingering aches to tease her with.

A poke here. A squeeze there. A little scratch.

[“Mom’s design. I like it.”] Sin said that little bit before she even really thought about it, more information than she would’ve offered anyone else. She frowned for an instant at the realization, then opened her mouth to Zoey a sharp bite on the neck. She kept her fangs in, chewing on the skin, worrying it between her teeth. Not enough to break skin, but enough to make a mark.

She broke away soon enough, and ran her tongue over the aggravated area, coating it. ”Stay focused. Want you on your A game. Make me happy here, maybe I’ll ease off you for a little while. Don’t, and well…” She pressed her lips against the wound, kissing it, but also letting Zoey feel the smile growing.

Oh, she was laughing. Okay.

Yeah sure...she, uh, meant that as a joke.

She wasn’t sure what surprised Zoey more. That Power Rangers was the first thing to come to her mind, that Sin actually got the reference, or that she got a half-decent response to her question. She was so used to the byword and cold shoulder she just expected at this point to expect nothing. It was beyond weird how she could slowly draw out these small tidbits from her once in a blue moon.

Zoey's Korean may have just been a little bit off, but she could've sworn she'd heard the word "mom" from her mentor just now. It sounded almost human when she said it. There was a trace of something sentimental, more than anything she'd ever likely get out of this monster. An attachment? From this woman? She must have been hearing things. She was pretty distracted after all.

“Oh fuck.” The words came out breathless. A static shock tickled her neck and worked down her spine. She could feel those lips move against the wound and the kind of face Sin was making against her neck right now. Half of her was expecting her to bite. Part of her wanted her to. Her mind was drifting into a familiar lull against the subtle pain twisting into pleasure. If there was one thing Sin had down to a science, it was keeping her inside the palm of her hands.

Sorry. How the fuck did she expect her to focus? Zoey chewed hard on her lip. New life seemed to flow into her with the aggravation between her legs. Her muscles felt free and the promises whispered in her ear made her heart skip a beat with that mix of dread and lust that only the TKD girl could manage.

[“Gotta be honest...if you’re...trying to get me...relax. Or amped...or whatever...you reallygoddamnfucking suck.”] Zoey sucked in hard between her teeth, tensing all at once and relaxing in the moment. Her hand snaked lower, grabbing two cautious handfuls of that perfect ass and bringing her closer against her, opening herself completely to her. Just like she wanted, no doubt. [“Just tell me who I’m fighting. Everyone here’s a chump anyway.”]

Was Sin trying to get Zoey in the right headspace? Maybe. Maybe not. She wasn’t even too sure herself, mostly because it was hard to tell what her proper headspace even was. Her fellow Taekwonista was a jigsaw puzzle of a woman, and while it could be fun to mash her pieces in all kinds of ways, she was still working on a coherent picture. But the woman could fight. She wasn’t a bad fighter - nowhere near as good as she seemed to think she was, but dispelling those myths was part of the process. She actually had good reason to be confident, too. Sort of.

”Most everyone here is a chump, yeah.” Her muscles tensed at Zoey’s touch, enjoying the feel of those fingers through the thin layer of her tights. She put a lot of time in the gym on the lower body, so touches in that area went a long way. Could be better, though. [”Squeeze harder. Make it hurt.”]

Sin pressed harder against Zoey, practically crushing her against the wall, like she was testing their bodies to see whose was harder. That was a contest she would win, but not as easily as she would’ve expected a few weeks ago. ”But yeah, chumps. It’s like Tension, you get a lot of guys coming around to just get smacked around by some hot bitch in a bikini. Maybe even get fucked if they’re lucky.”

Sin pulled back enough to look into Zoey’s eyes, as she brought her hand up and ran a sharp nail on the underside of her neck. ”You’re up against Armando Rodriguez. Actual wrestler from Tension. Boxer. Should be a good chance to see if your kicks are up to snuff. You fuck up in there, he will lay you out.”

She let that finger travel a little lower, scratching along her collarbone, tracing a path. ”Bring out that same kick you floored me with. Get him down. Keep him down.”

Even though the two of them hadn't seen each other for an entire week, Zoey would never forget that look in Sin's eyes for as long as she lived. It was there every time she looked at the mirror, every time she closed her eyes, and it was her again in this close darkness. In the seconds before another bloody fight, another beast seemed to take over. This one was less interested in tricks and torment. It was born from carnage and had a singular desire for pain that would be satiated one way or another.

Her nails dug in, giving the beast what it wanted before it decided to take it by force. Her ears hung onto every word, ready to repeat them exactly to her if need be. One thing she said though brought her out of her funk. Tension?

Oh, right. The other place. She never really kept up with it being on the Friction payroll. After she met Sin, it had crossed her mind to do so, even if it was just to see if everyone there was as batshit gonzo as she was, but Zoey never really found the time between getting her ass kicked all day and healing up all night. Sounded like a crazy place. “I’m not fucking anybody.”

She'd never fought intergender, not on this caliber, and it sounded like she was being thrown off the deep end. But they were here now. And if she tried to walk away Sin would probably just kill her. Painfully. Wasn't the first time that thought crossed her mind.

Zoey felt her brows furrow for a moment as Sin’s nail forced her head to recline and face the shadows on the ceiling. The uncertainty on her features spoke for itself. She winced at a sudden nick at her collarbone. Her eyes snapped back to Sin and got another glimpse of that pure, beautiful insanity staring back at her. It was so hard to tell whether the advice she was offering was meant to make Zoey win or just put on a good show. She swallowed hard. “Yeah. That kick...right.”

From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of the entrance and heard the shouts breaking from the light that echoed into the hall. Sounded like the current fight was reaching a climax. She chuckled quietly to herself. Her eyes couldn't leave it. ["If he doesn't deck my ass in two seconds. Your seriously letting me have all the fun?"]

If there was one thing Zoey learned about this walking, incredibly sexy question mark of a person, it was that she didn't do 'sidelines'. Her teacher was definitely planning to get her fun tonight. At whose expense was the question that had her throat in knots.