Putting Out Fire With Gasoline

Army wasn’t good at teaching. Carmen had tried to get him to do a few classes for her, to work with the women who came into the gym and give them a few tips when she wasn’t around. It made sense on paper. The two of them had the same training, went through the same steps, so he should’ve been able to handle it if she had the patience.

He sucked at it. Didn’t have the patience, didn’t have the mindset for it. He got annoyed when people didn’t pick up what he was throwing down right away, wasn’t good at explaining things, was even worse at demonstrating them. Maybe it was just the way his brain worked, but so much of boxing came down to the headspace for him. He was born into it, bred for it. It was almost like teaching someone how to walk. Such a basic, simple thing that it was hard to put into words.

Instinct. Knowing what to do without knowing. That was what he needed right now, more than anything.

In a small way, that was what made the pain important, the only real way for him to regain some focus in the current moment. Could he get it through all the pain, though? That was the question, and he wasn’t the only one pondering it.

Up above, Sin’s thoughts were on similar lines. Not that she wasn’t happy with the way things were going - fuck, she was starting to get a taste of what it felt like to have pride in someone other than herself, which was an...interesting sensation, if nothing else. Seeing those moves come from Zoey, that smile, brought with it this warm, fuzz sensation that she frankly didn’t want to think about too hard. For now, she just wanted to enjoy the carnage for its own sake. And the idea of pissing off the little tater tot below was just the sweetest icing on the cake, and it was about to get even sweeter.

[“Two thousand?”] Sin smirked, a little laugh, putting up a good front. It wasn’t that she didn’t have the money on her, that was too much yen...but she didn’t like the idea of making Imugi’s wallet larger. If she were the one in the ring, she’d take it without a second thought, but putting that much faith in another human being was, well…

But Zoey was doing well. Better than she’d ever thought possible. Maybe, just maybe she could pull this off. Besides, there was no backing down to this bitch. Confident, she leaned back and kicked her feet up. [color=Purple][”Three-thousand and you’re on.”][color]

That bet was getting safer by the second, as Army found himself in full retreat, moving out of the danger zone. He could only just hear Zoey behind him, messing up his nationality again and sounding crazier with every word she spoke. ”Glad it’s doing it for you, I guess.” He didn’t know what was coming next, but he knew he wanted to be facing whatever it was - sure enough, when he spun around, he was greeted with a stiff kick to the chest, landing straight between his pecs. It was enough to send him staggering back, making him lose ground, but he knew he couldn’t let that gap hold. The more Zoey pushed him back, the harder it would be for him to ever take this match back.

He planted his feet after a few wobbly steps, then rushed forward at full pace, looking to ram into her with his shoulder and drop her. It was a sloppy move, desperate, but at this point, he was willing to give it a shot.

Imugi's bet wasn't looking all that great right now from an outsider's perspective. Zoey was a difficult matchup for Army. She employed speed and lethal leg strikes against a man who relied on his fists and footing to land any significant damage. The second she caught him off balance, a lot of damage was certain to follow. In a lot of ways it reminded Imugi of their first match together. That should have been a bad sign, given the outcome from that day. All signs pointed towards Army heading for another loss. A hard one.

Although, you wouldn't be able to tell that from Imugi's face. Though she could feel her fellow Korean's mocking gaze on the back of her head, the bluenette simply sat with her arms crossed and one foot crossed over her knee. Her half-lidded eyes studied the ring and its contenders; identifying Zoey's mannerisms against Army. What was she looking at with those eyes? No one could know for sure. Only her next words offered one, solitary insight into her thoughts at that moment.

“Five-thousand. Deal.”

Zoey, on the other hand, had a face like an open book. The predatory smile slashed across her sweat-stricken face dripped with exuberance and ecstasy from every pore. Her sky blue iris were stricken with bloodshot red tendrils hyper-focused on the prey before her. Her body was trembling with a primal energy she hadn’t known until this very moment. She did the one thing she could do.

She charged. She leapt. She struck.

The Korean-American came down on both feet and hands with her back to her opponent. You didn’t have to see her face to know how psyched she was to have landed that blow. It had been her dream since she started Taekwondo to move a body Armando’s size with one strike like she was Jackie fucking Chan. She felt unstoppable, high out of her mind, and sexy as fuck all at once. Couldn’t stop now. Couldn’t stop until he went down and she could place her foot on his bloody face for the last time. And then…

Zoey leered back at Armando from over her shoulder in time to catch him charging back at her. She spun around and lunged forward, rushing to meet him head-on as she dashed low to the ground. The Kick Chick played it loose and lethal, taking a certain note from her mentor. Only a second before her face smashed against the heavyweight’s shoulder, Zoey fell to her knees. The taekwondista slid along the ground and kicked her right leg out like a scythe, aiming to cut Armando’s ankles out from under him with a leg sweep.

Sin wasn’t a betting woman - at least, not when it came to outcomes she couldn’t personally affect. She’d made a mint betting on herself, sure, but putting her eggs in a basket she wasn’t holding seemed stupid. Even more stupid when the one holding that basket was fucking Zoey Jae Oh, of all people. A very real part of her wanted to tell the blue bitch to fuck off and put that money towards some plastic surgery.

But. But, but, but. Zoey wasn’t losing. She wasn’t even just holding her own. She had this big motherfucker on the ropes. She was working him well enough, had a good rhythm going. She was smaller, sure, but the thing about kicks? You only needed to land a few good ones. She’d felt, firsthand, the sort of damage that scrawny body of hers was capable of.

Zoey. Could. Win. So why was Imugi so damn confident?

Sin didn’t like that look on the little bitch’s face. Too late to back down, now, though. For now, she did the only thing she could do - cross her legs, sit back, and mutter under breath. ”Zoey, I swear to fucking god, if you don’t end this shit soon…”

This wasn’t ending anytime soon. Not in Army’s favor, at least. Not if something big didn’t change in a big hurry.

He’d thought the shoulder charge might get some ground on Zoey, take her off guard, but he’d underestimated how good this woman’s instincts were. Even with her back to him, she still had the wherewithal to move in time to avoid him, coming in quick, ducking the danger. Army didn’t have any time to register where she was or what she was doing before her kick cut him off at the ankles, bringing him to the floor in one sweet movement that he was sure looked badass from the crowd.

For him, it was just a pain in the ass. He was knocked clean off his feet and hit the ground on his side, coming down rough on his shoulder. Knowing how bad a position this was, he rolled away towards the nearest corner and pulled his way up with the ropes’ aid, but that was only a small improvement.

He needed a plan. A good plan.

Zoey could have followed up. She could be doing a lot of things. You see, that was the benefit of not being the one with a face full of foot right now. She didn't have to try.

After her slick slide along the ground, Zoey shot back up and turned on the spot towards Armando. She didn't have to see the look on his face to know how badly that sucked, how much pain mentally and physically he was going through. Not too long ago, she was in that exact same spot right next to him. The crawling was always the worst bit.

It was an odd feeling at first. For a solid year, she had been nothing but sidelined. Her life since she came to this stupid country was nothing but a repeating joke for everyone in the world to watch over and over. She'd almost gotten used to leaving the ring with a mouth full of blood. Remembering a time she fell asleep without the dull relief of bruises and bandages was difficult. For a while there, she had almost accepted her new reality. She was never the smartest person in the room, but god damn, did she feel like a dumb shit now.

If only the Zoey of six months ago could have seen her today. Kicking this big bastard around, watching him crawl and use the fence for support for his massive weight. All the while, she was breathing free and having the time of her life. Her heart was pacing faster than ever and yet she couldn’t remember feeling more elated in her life. Every moment was vividly clear, every action flowed like ink. Today it was Armando. Tomorrow, who knew she would take out? Erina? Jessica? The champion? Days from now, the images of bloody and beaten foes would flood her mind. She’d find new life in their dead eyes and vigor in every breath she took as she clung tenderly to those tainted thoughts.

At the moment, she wasn’t even thinking of that faraway past or the distant future. The taekwondoist had eyes for one man and only one in this dank and dirty pit. Her tongue flicked across her lips.

Zoey didn’t waste any time taking after him. By the time Armando turned around, she would only be a few steps from meeting him at the cage wall. She aimed for his right leg with a low kick, attacking his balance where it mattered most. Once he was feeling the pain, the Kick Chick's other leg would follow up with a crescent kick to his ribs.

Wait for it.

Boxing - fighting in general - was all about the timing. Army had to learn that early on, before his age even hit double digits. When he was a kid and starting out, he’d thought the sport was all about swinging your fist around and hitting the other guy more times than he hit you, like Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots in real life. Not even close. It wasn’t about being the strongest or the fastest. Those were factors, sure, but what helped out more than anything was knowing when to strike.

Wait for it.

The right punch delivered at the right time to the right area was a beautiful thing. Army had seen entire matches shift all thanks to a single punch that hit in such a way that the target took far too much of it, and left them broken. For years, he’d trained for that, but it wasn’t something that came natural to him. He was, at the core, even with his pedigree and training, a brawler.

Wait for it.

But that wasn’t getting him anywhere now, was it? Zoey was too fast, too frenetic, fuck it, too good, for that kind of bulldozing. She was the worst sort of opponent for him, and she was picking him apart, kick by kick, wearing him to the nub. The moment he spun around, her feet were already waiting for him, driving against his gut, smacking his ribs and knocking the wind out of him. Growing desperate, he put up his guard and went tight, knowing his only choice was to wade through the storm. Let the rain fail, let the kicks land. Wait for it, wait for it, wait…

There.

Army bided his time, taking her blows, until he saw the smallest gap in her offense. He moved forward and shot his arms out, pushing against her chest. It wasn’t much, no more than a simple shove, just enough to get back a step or two. Into his attack range. She wouldn’t be there long, but that was fine. He didn’t need more than a second.

Army took a step in to close the gap and dropped his left arm, leaving himself wide open for a golden instant, making a tempting target. In that time, however, he brought his arm up as he twisted his body, coming at Zoey with a punch that wasn’t quite a hook and wasn’t quite an uppercut. It was the best of both worlds, his most damaging and dangerous punch, a blow from the depths of hell that he liked to call the Smash, and it was heading straight towards her chin whether she realized it or not.

Zoey didn't have to look at the parts of his body she wanted to target to confidently land a blow. That was the trick she picked up somewhere along the way. If you don't think about it too much, something else will fill in the gaps. Instincts, bloodlust, foresight, whatever you want to call it. She could feel his weakness on the tips of her fingers, the brush of skin against skin.

Her low kick forced him to stumble right into a beautiful crescent kick that cleaved through his ribs. That got Armando to raise his guard and hide behind those meaty mitts. Not that it mattered. Zoey was relentless in her mounting pressure, bringing her fists up as she started striking him with swift hooks towards the head. Every fifth blow would be complemented by a kick to his midsection. A barrage that left him on the defense as she tore into him like a whirlwind. He was hardening to stop her, but she still felt him yield. The taste of his desperation made her confident enough to continue. Her knee dug into his ribs hard enough to feel the shift. Her eyes kept on his face, his gaze.

That's right, Armando. Crumble. Struggle as hard as you can before your defenses finally fall and collapse under your own, stubborn weight. Fight, guard, and push all he liked. It was inevitable. It was going to happen whether he liked it or not. Because that's what always happened to her.

That's what happens when you get in over your head.

That's what happens when you're weak.

There. The crook of his neck; his cervical was exposed. Zoey's eyes narrowed on the target. She aborted her last strike and chambered her leg close. Her mind’s eyes saw the next few seconds before they actually happened. Her kick slammed into his exposed neck and the shock down the back of his spine. His legs would give out first, dragging that massive upper body to the floor. Then she-

Huh, nice ceiling.

...why was she noticing that?

What was hitting her in the face right now? Her left eye had gone pitch black as an overwhelming mass dug into the side of her face. That had to be a brick right? Who threw that? Someone from the audience? Did they allow that kind of crap in here? No, it was warm. She smelled sweat. There was heat and life. Only then could Zoey’s eyes peer through the haze. She followed the length of Armando’s arm to the fist in her face. The world was swirling around on a pivot behind him. The lights around them flashed in her clear blue irises as they traveled skyward. Zoey was the only one that was remaining completely still while the world swiveled around her. That was when she felt the knuckles digging into her facial bones. She tried to move her legs, but they didn't respond. Out of her one good eye, she could see them dangling free right in front of her.

Oh, she was off her feet. Which meant-

“Goodnight.”

Bam. The back of Zoey’s head hit the hardwood beneath the canvas first and rebounded once with the rest of her body before it finally settled. Deathly still, the Korean-American’s body elicited little more than a twitch and a piteous gurgle from her deprived lungs. The instant of silence that fell over the arena was met with even greater arousal from the baying audience beyond the fence. Hidden among them was the knowing smirk of a certain blue-haired indigent, clapping as she looked over her shoulder to her fellow Korean sitting behind her.

Priceless.

Back when Army started off, he and Carmen took a ton of heat from the wrestling community, seeing them as boxers trying to muscle in on the scene and get quick fame, not really learning the business. It wasn’t an undeserved criticism, to be fair. When they first started, when they were fresh, they were still trying to figure out the way to mix their old style with the new one, and most of their offense was punches. Effective, sure, but lacking the flash.

It had taken a while, but they’d finally managed to get into a groove that worked for them, with Army rocking a style that was somewhere between a hard striker and a powerhouse. He wasn’t perfect, wasn’t the best, but he got by with decent results, and he could pull off some good moves when the occasion called for it.

But as much as he’d beefed up on the wrestling repertoire, he still had plenty of old moves to fallback on, and the one he’d just used on Zoey was an old favorite. Hard to hit, but worth it. All his power, all his strength, was brought out in one devastating shot. One second. That was all it took.

Army stumbled back after the impact, so winded that the recoil was more than his legs could handle. He dropped to a knee just as Zoey dropped on her head and bounced, getting more distance than anyone he’d ever seen before. Twitching, spasms, gurgles, all of the nasty stuff. The official came over to check on her, but that was just to get her moving and out of the ring. Wouldn’t matter if you counted to a hundred, she wasn’t getting up anytime soon.

Army stood up - wobbling and swerving along the way - and raised his fist high in the air as the crowd roared around him. ”안녕히 주무세요.”

Not everyone was cheering, of course. Given how rare it was for a guy to come out on top of these mixed fights in the AFW, Zoey was the smart money in more than a few eyes, and they weren’t too happy about what they were seeing. Sin would know. More than anyone.

She didn’t say anything. She didn’t do anything. In fact, when Imugi would turn around, she would see Sin in the exact same pose she’d been in since Army’s punch landed: Fist balled and propped under her chin, staring at the ring with a furrowed brow. She didn’t need to look at Imugi. She could feel the little shit smiling up at her, goddamn it.

She reached into her top and brought her wallet out, then started rifling through the bills. One, two, three…yeah, that’d do it. With a contemptuous huff, she tossed Imugi’s winnings down beside her and stood up, giving the blue-haired bitch one last look before she went.

”See you soon.”

Zoey wasn’t contributing much of anything from her new status in life as a smear on the floor. Blood streamed from the corner of her lip, staining the ring as it formed a puddle and dampened her hair. Imugi was among the few in the crowd giving her approval with a celebratory finger whistle. She’d fought in front of these crowds just long enough to know the kind of action they’d all come out for. Armando taking the big, fat ‘W’ must have hurt their boners as bad as their wallets.

That was no doubt the case for her new friend at her back, albeit hers was a special case. Although Imugi couldn’t help but pick up on that unusual silence behind her. The little idol put a hand behind her ear and leaned back, feeling her smirk stretch to one side. “Oh? No comment?”

Well, not quite. Sin did have some choice words for her, but not before she slapped down their agreement on the seat beside her. Imgui swept up her reward and started counting before Sin had the opportunity to run off, though that might have been in vain. By the time Imugi turned around, her fellow Korean was already gone. As if she was never there at all. Her brows furrowed, confused as she looked, craning her neck left and right to scan the bleachers. The K-pop star silently hoped that might have been the case so she didn’t have to hear that voice ever again.

Wishful thinking, yeah. She could do that once in a while.

Whatever. Imugi put that waste-of-effort in the back of her mind and focused on the only person in the world that deserved her attention right now. Maybe it was the light, maybe it was the seating from up here as if she were an empress overseeing the victory of her famed gladiator. Imugi couldn’t say why, but at that moment, Army was perfect. Her ocean-blue eyes reflected a singular adoration for the Puerto Rican titan standing with his triumphant fist raised in the center. His tired yet steely gaze, his perfect muscles glistening in the afterglow of a ferocious battle just yearning for relief and repaste with every gentle breath. Why was she still sitting here?

The pit fighter stood calmly from her seat and walked around the edge of the jeering audience. Her calm silhouette drifted between the chaos as she descended the stairway and made her way around the cage. She stepped inside from the far gate, entering with nothing but a whisper.

She waited for Army to turn around before she reached up and took his head in her hands, pulling him close for a long and loving kiss. Zoey was dragged out of the cage and left nothing behind but a smeared streak on the canvas. The last remains of their battle. Imugi didn’t even notice. All she knew was the taste of his lips. All she felt were the tired muscles along his armsh as she explored his body, his heat on her skin and the pump of his heart against her chest. She broke away after a tender moment and looked at him with a tender gaze. "I seriously think you have to try to fight that bad, dude."

Holy fuck.

Holy fuck, that was crazy.

If it wasn’t obvious from the way he was leaning up against the cage wall like his life depended on staying vertical, that match took a lot out of him. Pretty much all of it. In no small part, he was kind of embarrassed, and the BS department in his brain was making up a laundry list of excuses. She was a kicker, those were always a pain in the ass for a boxer to deal with. She was so fast, he was a tank. She’d taken him by surprise, worn into him before he had the chance. Blah blah blah.

Pure fact? She was good. Nowhere near as good as she fucking thought, but good. If she ever stopped being a cocky dumbass, she might go somewhere with those crazy legs of hers.

For now, she was going to the infirmary, if this place even had one. He hoped it did, he could kind of use something himself, and-

Imugi.

Word association. The second he thought about an infirmary, she was the first thing that came along with it, and he remembered where he was, and he remembered where she was. The fog was coming off now, and he had the presence of mind to look for her in the crowd. He couldn't remember exactly where she was sitting, but the great thing about dating a girl with bright blue hair was being able to pick her out in a crowd. Hell, he could probably find her in the dark if he needed to. And yet, he couldn't see her. Had she gone to the back already? Was she waiting nearby? Was she-

”Oh.”

He turned around only to find Imugi and her lips waiting for him, taking him up in a kiss. Maybe it was the dehydration and the adrenaline talking, maybe it was the mild concussion messing with his brain, but it was the single hottest one the two of them had shared to this point, and it was up against stiff competition. The light feel of her around him, the softest, the heat, the fact that she didn’t care about him being a sweaty, bloody mess…

He was all too happy to take it. His arms came around her, holding her close, sucking in the warmth and enjoying every inch he could get and ignoring all the people making stupid noises their way.

Army pulled away, nipping at her bottom lip as he did, and rested his forehead against hers. Eyes closed, he wasn’t the least bit surprised by her little taunt his way. Yeah, he had that coming. ”Called ‘suspense’. Had to play things up a little, do some drama, stretch it out some so the bets’ll get higher.”

Total bullshit, made obvious by the way he was kind of using her to keep his balance right now, but he sold it with a lazy smile. ”You’ll do better when you’re up, huh?”

Imugi had almost forgotten how much she loved his half-assed excuses.

She loved hearing them as much as she loved firing them back. There weren’t many people she could talk to these days. Having an entire sea between herself and her only handful of friends and connections would do that. These last few weeks of suspension only emphasized the distance and isolation that came with a new life.

Running into Army in that hallway lifted a weight she hadn’t even realized was there. The Korean girl hadn’t realized what real companionship felt like until it was already gone. Even the slightest taste. It was hard to return to solitude and before she knew it, Imugi was miserable all over again. It was funny how she’d never realized it until now. Under these lights with his body so close.

It was like every snarky word he uttered could make her smile. Just the sound of his voice.

She didn’t care how many people saw them kiss. She didn’t care if someone recorded it and the whole world knew by tomorrow morning. Tonight, Imugi pressed her forehead back against his and smiled. A real smile. One that was almost as beautiful as his beneath those tired eyelids.

"I definitely will do better. Guaranteed. Look at you, man. These wounds are terrible." Nothing but a few cuts and bruises, actually. Some nasty welts were starting to form, but Army looked far from the worst Imugi had seen over an illustrious underground career of driving heads into the pavement and beating heads in with lead pipes. The concern in her voice seemed unwarranted. As did the lush thigh that raised between his legs.

A careful hand brushed over his chest, her eyes following the glistening definition and blistering shades of red between her fingertips. There were still a few minutes before the next round. Plenty of time. "We should get these looked at. Somewhere quiet. Reasonably clean.”