Akino Sanada vs. Goto Arisawa - Return To Form

”Language.”

Not that Goto was a prude, but he always had a distaste for profanity, especially in English. It always sounded so crass and crude, and there was never any reason for it. Whatever you had to say, you could always say it just as well clean.

He doubted she would've been al that receptive to his opinion, though. In fact, Goto doubted she would be all that receptive to anything he threw her way,up to and including this submission hold. Akino was coming across as not only a lewd woman, but an oddly stubborn one, as her current defiance was proving. She wasn’t going to get to the ropes, but he wasn’t the least bit confident in a submission anytime soon. A change of tact was in order.

Goto abruptly let go of the hold, rolling off his back and popping to his feet nearby. He gave Akino a moment to wallow before he moved in and took the reins once more, reaching down and grabbing her by the shoulder to force her standing. He pushed her towards the nearest corner, pressed her back against it, then pulled back and sent her running off to the other side of the ring, making her dash with a strong Irish Whip.

"** **** ********!!!" Indecipherable though Akinos retort was due to her voice being muffled out against the crook of the martial artist's leg, the visceral rage behind it was unmistakable as Goto's insistence of civility went unheeded, to say the least. The cold-blooded maid not knowing how to act ladylike on her best day, let alone when her trapped arm felt like several layers of hell from being severely cranked to the side. Lightning bolts now shooting through her elbow and shoulder socket with Akino loathing how this bearded goody two shoes somehow managed to catch her in a submission that was typically her specialty. That in and of itself was a major blow to the maid's fragile ego and only further infuriated her when all of a sudden waves of relief washed over her from the abandoning of the submission.

Akino immediately rolling over and clutching onto her tortured arm as she indeed wallowed in outright misery, breathing heavily with the side of her face nudged against the canvas and a fresh coat of perspiration as well. She soothed her numbed arm and recovered as best she could as she felt that hapless hobo's shadow darkened the light over her and come that much closer when he started ushering her back up to her feet. Akino begrudgingly following along and gingerly taking care not to exasperate her arm's battered state as she was backpedaled into a nearby corner turnbuckle. Her arm was a wreak, but her legs apparently worked just fine as the cosplaying maid followed along with the muscled Martial artist's prompting as she went off sprinting across the ring before managing to spin about so she hit the pads spine first, where she now slumped with each arm dangling over the top ropes at her sides.

Goto had no idea what Akino said a moment ago, but he strongly doubted they were words of encouragement and sportsmanship. It was hard to put a finger on, but this woman seemed to only have two modes - lewd and angry, and she could switch between them with frightening ease. It felt like something was eating at her, something wholly unrelated to the fight, but he couldn’t fathom a guess on what that might be.

It hardly mattered, he supposed. His only concern in the current moment was to keep her moving, to press the advantage he’d carved out, and his Irish Whip was a good way of doing that. Akino was in the corner, vulnerable, and he had no intention of leaving her there for long.

He took off running not long after he released her, staying a few steps behind the smaller woman, right behind her shadow. When she hit and spun about, he launched himself into the air and struck out, swinging his arm forward and bringing it down with a flying elbow to her chest. Not just to hit her, but to pin her against the turnbuckle with his weight, making sure she was in place for what he planned next.

"Go Fuck Yourself!!!" would be the unedited version of Akino's temperamental retort whilst still in the clutches of the martial artist's accursed armbar. In spite of that submission having long since been abandoned, the crippling numbness in that formerly hyper-extended limb lingered onward. Akino surmised it might persist even more-so considering how often she'd rendered adversary's arm's useless in the past. The taste of her own medicine never having been quite so painfully bitter seeing as how now the shoe was on the other foot, and those feet currently had her sprinting straight across the ring.

The spiteful maid careened into the corner turnbuckle with considerable velocity, and would have given anything to be granted some friggin peace from this hapless world warrior. Except instead of that, her one-eye would widen into a saucer from glimpsing up at Goto in mid-spin and seconds before getting a stiff forearm mashed right into her breasts. “OoPh!!” Akino cried out in a puffed exhale, squirming about but ultimately pinned between the rock-hard musculature grinding against her and the hard place of the corner turnbuckle behind her. Pantied rump compressed against the middle turnbuckle and winded by the intense impact as she panted laboriously against the chiseled hobo, a faint hint of a blush and what felt like nudged contact between their crotches.

Goto had to admit, Akino’s tenacity was something to behold. Despite their differences in size, she was taking his blows and moves remarkably well - better than he would’ve ever expected at least. Hold on where others would have faltered, persevering where others collapsed. It was just another example of his previous notions on women being smashed, showing how strong a warrior she could be despite their physical differences. He would have told her as much, too, though he somehow doubted she would be all that receptive to a compliment.

Just a hunch.

It would hardly matter, however, as he was of a mind to start bringing to this match a close, regardless of how resilient she was turning out to be. Crashing against her like this had not only done damage, but put it a vulnerable position, one that was ripe to be exploited.

He took a step back, made space between them, and moved his hands to his, taking the same stance he’d adopted at the start of the match. In a rush of motion, he moved forward and thrush both of his palms out, looking to hit her square in the chest with his signature move.

”Hadouken!”

Goto indeed demonstrated sage wisdom in opting to forgo complimenting Akino on her resilient stamina when it came to enduring the martial artist's honed strikes and learned submissions. Flattering words, if uttered, she'd insist that Goto promptly shove right up his ass considering she'd interpret it as being one helluva durable punching bag. Underground fighting tournaments were where she first cut her teeth and occasionally knocked out of the mouth of her adversary, so it's no secret as to how she was capable of withstanding one offensive salvo after another. But this righteous warrior was really beginning to test her limitations, in terms of both pain and patience.

Akino panting warmly once the homeless warrior was intently leveraged against her in the corner, but could only breathe a sigh of relief once he'd started backpedaling. The frazzled maid wearily shuffling forward in half-lidded fatigue towards Goto's general direction when, after scarcely a step and a half, the wave-motioning palm strike was mashed right into her breasts with enough strength to thrust the maid off of her booted feet and back into the padded turnbuckles. The entire corner reverberating upon impact with Akino's legs kicking up, but once they'd hit the ground the battle-hardened maid would start lumbering forward with arms dangling like a ghoulish zombie...before flopping down at Goto's bare feet with a bounce to her backside.

There was something refreshing and exhilarating about pulling off a move like this. It wasn’t just one of his standard attacks, it wasn’t just a punch or a hold or something simple, but a move that he had practiced to a hellacious degree, something he had obsessed over, took pride in its perfection. The closest thing he could liken it to was the satisfaction of a painter before his finished work - the feeling of starting a project and seeing it through, of completion and perfection. Rare, but unmistakable.

That was the sensation that went through him as he executed his move and saw the immediate results - his opponent falling flat before him.

Akino nearly fell into him, as a matter of fact, and would have if he’d not managed to move to the side in time. The woman had shown surprising resilience throughout their short but intense battle, but it seemed that even that had its limits, and he’d managed to push her to them. He was almost of a mind to try and finish this match here and now, go for the pin, but he decided against it - he doubted she was quite at that point yet, and there was one last move he wished to use. One that would ensure victory.

Goto wiped his face clean of sweat before he moved forward and reached down, lifting Akino off the canvas. He pulled her head under his shoulder, tucked it tight in a headlock, then stepped forward and proceeded to lift her up, forcing her to sit on the turnbuckle nearest to them. With her still in the hold, he planted one foot on the middle rope, then another, and lifted her up high, holding her vertical - the first step in his Falcon Arrow, a move that he had learned specifically to finish off his more stubborn opponents in definitive fashion. An elevated version at that.

”This is over.”

Akino vaguely recalled this vagrant martial artist bellowing the onset of this maneuver's name earlier on in the match. Thankfully it was interrupted mid-execution back than by a crescent kick that prevented the maid from learning what the hell he was saying or what kind of strike he was winding up for. Well, Akino could now safely say that she wished she continued being blissfully ignorant of the answers to those questions, because in this case the truth definitively hurt like a motherfucker. The thrusting double-palm strike connected cleanly right in the middle of her midsection, possessing all of the mastered strength and pinpoint precision that only comes from years of dedicated training and solemn meditation that Akino couldn't help but surmise happened underneath a waterfall somewhere. Goto just seemed the type. He also seemed the type to not allow a lady, whom he'd just spent the last minute manhandling and palm-thrusted right down to the very core of her being, to just collapse face first like that. Surely he'd do her the modest courtesy of catching-


...or he'd just let her fall flat on her face like a goober. *...hggh...what a prick...* Akino formulated the summation of her assessment of this prick despite not having the wherewithal to do much else, an uptick to her skirt allowing a fan appreciated peek at her supple rump and frilly white panties. One frazzled groan was all that the battle maid had been allowed to do before she'd feel Goto's hands start trying to haul her upward, which she'd unwillingly obey before having her head slotted into a secured headlock with tightened and sweat glazed muscles bearing down on her noggin from all sides. A flaccid limpness to her arms as she panted down the side of his torso and remained seemingly incapable of impeding Goto as he went through the motions of setting her up to be seated atop the turnbuckle. In one deft hoist she was uplifted skyward with her legs extended, until in one nimble sway Akino ended up flipping behind Goto and tucking deeply her knees into his spine as she applied a fierce sleeperhold and snarled..."Over?...But I'm not even wet yet..."...before tugging him backward for an elevated backstabber from one hell of a precarious perch...

It all happened fast. Faster than even Goto could’ve anticipated. He knew that Akino was a wily opponent, but he hadn’t expected her to be this capable.

Goto had the match well in hand, or so he’d thought. Akino wasn’t all that heavy, and lifting her up for this the Falcon Arrow proved to be a simple affair. From this elevated position, there was little doubt in his mind that he would be able to finish her off and take the pin. He’d done a solid job of wearing her down. She was finished.

He was proven wrong in short order, as the woman came to life with a sudden burst of energy. In the next instant she was at his back, choking him, her knees planted against his spine. While she wasn’t heavy, the sudden shift of weight wrecked havoc on Goto’s balance, and there was little he could do to stop what came next - he was falling back, hard and fast, coming down with her beneath him.

Goto had no idea how Akino fared in that impact, but it wasn’t a pleasant experience on his end. The second they hit, he knees shot into his back like twin daggers, pushing deep into body and driving all air clean out of him. He let out a hoarse cry and rolled away, flopping over to his chest. A second later and he started pushing up, only for his back to give up and force him back down, leaving him to wallow on the mat with his eyes clenched tight.

Spikes of adrenaline were not meant to be overtly relied upon since nobody can ever truly predict when you'll be reinvigorated with new vitality. But Akino could safely ascertain that in her case, nothing gets her ticked off more than being someone's punching bag for what seemed like forever...or worse, being pitied upon. Typically it was for her eye-patch and ocular disability, but Akino's paranoid sensibilities caught on to Goto's sympathetic glances from afar. And once given the chance to reverse her misfortunes she snatched it with malicious intent, latching on to the martial artist from behind and plummeting them both backwards for a splash landing that sucked for them both. Akino bounding off in the opposite direction of Goto afterwards, massaging her back snarling into the canvas.

"...*pant*...*pant*..." Akino breathed raggedly in her lethargic ascension, planting her palms into the canvas ans rising at the same time as Goto but with far more success given he'd taken the far rougher landing out of the two of them. On her hands and knees, she'd direct her attention over towards him and began crawling over towards him like a predator encroaching upon her hapless quarry. A seductive sway to her pantied rump before pouncing upon her prey and tackling him over until he was splayed out on his back. A feral gleam to Akino's eye as she straddled his abdomen and took the direct approach of throttling his neck with both hands for a patently blatant choke, one that Akino cackled devilishly throughout before relenting after the ref count with a parting forearm smash to end it with.