Ryota Ito vs. The Black Fang - The Road Not Taken

Match Type: Standard
Victory Conditions: Pinfall, Submission, or KO


”And what time is it, Fang Gang?”

”Time! For! Justice!”

Ryoko loved this crowd.

She often felt that, in this modern day, too many wrestlers forgot about the audience. Especially in the AFW, it seemed like so many wrestlers just came out, did their thing, won or lost, then left. No playing up to the crowd. No chants. No taking selfies with the crowd. None of the magic that had really defined their sport since its creation. Wrestling wasn’t like basketball or football, you weren’t playing in a field with the fans separated and at a distance. No, they were close, they were intimate, they were as much a part of the show as any wrestler or referee, and Black Fang was all about embracing that.

Today she’d really managed to get them in the mood. When she came out a couple of minutes ago, she found an eager audience waiting, with a few of them at ringside wearing her admittedly overpriced imitation masks. She’d taken a few pictures, bumped fists, even given out a couple of hugs, one of which went to a guy who was drunk and got a little too into it for her tastes.

After making a circle around the ring and slapping hands, she’d made her way into the ring and gotten them going in a ‘Fang Gang’ chant - the name of her small but growing fan club. She’d started it up a few weeks ago on Twitter and gotten some good feedback, picked up a fair amount of feedback over a short amount of time. It was always hard to do the social media thing with the AFW, so much of the stuff the place was associated with what just too hot for the platform, but she kept it clean, kept it fun, and people were receptive to it.

Here, it was paying off. A fun crowd, large and lively.

’That’s right!” She circled around the ring, microphone in hand while she pumped her fist with the other. ”But it’s time for something else, too. Way, way too often in Friction, we have newcomers that get the worst kind of welcome. They come here, somebody gangs up on them, they leave the ring in a wreck and we never see them again.” She wagged her finger and turned her nose up at that notion. ”Well, I’m having none of it. Wrestling is all about opportunity, all about possibility, all about competition, and it’s all about you!” That got the crowd roaring and jumping as she pointed out to them, exactly the sort of energy she wanted to foster.

”So I want you all to give a nice, hearty Friction welcome to my opponent tonight - Ryota Ito!”

And with that introduction, the Black Fang turned her attention to the curtains, waiting for her foe to come out. She didn’t know too much about who she’d be facing beyond the name, other than this was going to be far from her first time in a wrestling ring. That was a good thing, she was hoping for a solid match out of whoever this was, and she hoped that, with the crowd suitably hyped, they could both come out of this match looking golden.

This is perhaps the first time she absolutely regretted coming into a federation, not even after she stepped foot into the ring.

She didn’t get to see much as she was stretching her arms in the gorilla position. But just hearing it all going down was repulsive. The crowd getting hyped over simple promo talk. The heroics and bombastic tone of her voice. Like nails on a chalkboard.  The stagehand was there waiting to give the cue for her to enter. But as the Black Fang played the crowd, his eyes got sidetracked by the show next to him. It was fascinating. Each stretch showed another muscle he didn’t think existed. And yet, he looked on with morbid curiosity. Or just marvelling at such a sculpted figure. It seems unreal considering what was there from the neck up-

“Eyes up, idiot.”

The calm yet authoritative tone brought him back to reality. The man got shook as he got caught staring for too long. Not that she was looking, but she can tell when someone was ogling at her. The stagehand is dwarfed in size. But even he could see the eyes narrowing in impatience. Figuratively. It was kinda unsettling. The only expression on her face would be from her lips. They say the eyes are a window to the soul. But nothing can be seen. As if there’s nothing there. “Just tell me when to go. I want to end this farce already.” It all felt like something was taken from a Shonen manga. The ones she had read back then. When she was weaker than what she is right now. It was the sort of thing she was trying to avoid. And yet, it seems the gods themselves liked a bit of humour.

As the Black Fang continues this drivel, she took the time to go over the details in her head. She’s pretty much all that she loathes, all the way down to the ridiculous get-up. The only things that were even a tiny bit noteworthy were her wrestling ability. But even that was covered with the useless wrestling theatrics that plagued wrestling. She almost felt insulted that they were paired together and for her debut no less. But that didn’t matter, however. This is where she will make her point. And the Black F…man, it was nauseating to repeat it…she will be the messenger.

Once the introduction ended, the nervous stagehand gave the signal for her theme to play. “M-Ms Ryota, y-you are up…” Ryota scoffed as she rolled her shoulders.

“Good.”

A tiny bit late on cue, Ryota would pass through the curtains as she strode towards the ramp. Even with the crowd wishing to give her a warm welcome, they would be wasted on her. She pretty much ignored them as she came down. No slapping hands, no hugging, not even turning her head to smile at them. She had that cold expression, one that only faced the ring. And that wannabe superhero that was standing in it.

Ryota climbed up the steps before stepping inside the ring. Taking a few steps forward and coming close towards the fake heroine, Ryota stood before her. Arms crossed, her non-existent gaze was on her. Just the sight of her was a marvel to look at. A combination of brains and brawn thought and thew.

One that’s none too pleased to be here.

Oooooooooooo boy.

When the Black Fang heard the words ‘new wrestler’. An image always popped into her head. She assumed the woman in question would be young, for one thing. In good shape, sure, the AFW wasn’t big on hiring people who couldn’t handle this lifestyle at all, but not super big. Most of the truly impressive independent wrestlers were either already here or working for other federations, so that only left you with a certain breed. Nothing wrong with that, just the way it was.

Ryota Ito, however, was not ‘in good shape’. Ryoko was in good shape. Most of opponents and the wrestlers she knew were in good shape.

Ryota Ito was a walking brick wall.

She did her best to suppress her surprise as the woman made her way down, heading down to the ring with the same walk of a business woman off to her next meeting. She didn’t seem all that interested in the crowd or her entrance or...anything, but maybe that was just first match jitters. Though that wasn’t the impression the Black Fang was getting as her opponent stepped. No, to her eyes, it seemed like Ryota simply did not want to be here.

Well, time to introduce herself.

”Hey!” The Black Fang stepped forward, tossing her hair back as she came over, ”Hope I didn’t make you nervous with that intro, just trying to get the crowd warmed up. They can go soft on these debut matches.” She extended her hand for a quick shake. ”Let’s have us a good match, okay? Bring you into the AFW the right way.”

It was no understatement that Ryota looked like she meant business. And that’s not going over her physique.

The way she carried herself as she walked through the ramp, the newcomer seemed like she had a purpose. Not many debutants nail that down, either letting nerves get the better of them or causing mistakes and blunders that would haunt them for the rest of their lives. Ryota seemed that she has been through all of this before, while inwardly felt that she didn’t want to go through it at all. The grandiose and pomp was close to making her throw up. The only reason she didn’t want to was that it would look bad in her debut.

Not great for the blog post she was going to write up. And oh, is it going to be a doozy.

The Black Fang came towards her while Ryota stood there like the brick wall she is. She may not be tall, but she seemed like an amazon. Her glasses never gave what her eyes looked like, but she looked down on the Black Fang. She saw the extended hand offered to her, tilted her head down before bringing it back up towards the heroine. One would expect Ryota to accept the gesture and start the match off the right way.

What the Black Fang got was a scoff.

“I’m not nervous,” Ryota said with a sub-zero temperature of coldness. “I did not need that silly introduction either. What I do need is for you to take this seriously.” Ryota would step back, rolling her neck and shoulders as she waits for the bell to ring. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Thus began the single most awkward moment Ryoko had ever experienced in a wrestling ring. It would hold that record, too, unless she ever had something like a hentai match. God forbid.

She stood there, hand extended, waiting for Ryota to reciprocate. A shake. A slap. A little dap. Something like that. Instead, she received one of the coldest stares she could imagine, and a rebuttal to match. Okay, the super serious type. She could work with that.

The Black Fang’s mask shifted, brows furrowing underneath, before she withdrew her hand and folded her arms. ”I am taking this seriously. I am going to seriously pin your shoulders to the mat for three seconds.” She supposed she could’ve said she would make her tap out, but she had to be honest with herself - a woman with that much size and power to work with? Submissions weren’t too likely.

She bounced away on her heels as the referee gave the signal, calling for the bell. The moment it rang, the Black Fang dropped into her traditional grappling stance and inched her way forward, not going for anything big right away. This was a big girl. She had handled big girls before. The best way was to feel them out at first, get a good idea for the rhythm, then break them down with speed. So, for now, she was playing it safe.

She moved in, looking for all the world like she was going for a collar-and-elbow. Instead, she would duck down before the connected and throw a swift kick to her opponent’s leg, targeting the hamstring.

It wasn’t her fault that Ryota made this awkward. Blame this masked poser for making things more silly than it needed.

The reflection of her specs made the supposed “stare” colder than it truly is. Ryota stood in front of The Black Fang, expressionless and imposing. Many women would dream of pulling this off, and many have failed to attempt to do so. The only thing that did make it work for Ryota is that she’s not some poser or an actor. Everything about her is real. From her body to the genuine disgust of everything Black Fang stood for, it’s all genuine.

So the handshake was not going to be reciprocated. Not until the Black Fang earns Ryota’s respect. And she’s a harsh judge to please.

“That is not serious.” Ryota quickly quipped as she settled into a stance. Coiled and ready to strike like a viper. A massive, buffed up viper, to be exact. “Pinning me to the mat. What a joke.”

The Black Fang moved in while Ryota remained where she was. Ryoko may not see it, but Ryota was appraising her, judging her every move. Her stance was…good. There was undoubtedly something of an actual ring technician there; perhaps she was really trying to come off as serious. How cute.

Then she felt that kick to the leg, to which Ryota took it cleanly. It certainly was weird for Ryota to not bother blocking or counter it with anything else. But she wanted to see what the “superhero” got going for her. It hit with an audible smack to her thigh, and it certainly stung. Ryota bounced back a few steps and straightened up a bit, pursing her lips as she looked to be in thought.

“Hmmm…”

Before Black Fang would no doubt ask about her thoughts, Ryota stepped back in again, replying with the same kick that the Black Fang had done. No bullshit whatsoever, short, simple and hard.

”Joke, huh?” The Black Fang’s nose wrinkled, jaw shifted, brow furrowed all at once. It was hard to put a finger on, but Ryota was already getting on her bad side, which was a rare feat to accomplish. She tried not to take her matches too seriously, wanted to have fun first and foremost, and this woman was already setting herself up as the antithesis. No smiles, no camaraderie, nothing. Just that cold stare and that indifferent, condescending tone. ”We’ll see who’s laughing...okay…”

So, when she came in and lashed out, she struck with a solid kick, landing it clean. It would’ve been enough to trip up most women or at least leave them hobbling, and it did have some effect on Ryota’s tree trunk legs...a small one. Way less than she was hoping for, if she were being honest. It didn’t seem to faze the woman all that much, and it actually made her own leg sting a bit, like she’d just slammed it against a heavy bag.

All the same, though, she had to keep up her face, couldn’t let Ryota know what was going on under the surface. ”So, how was that? Serious enough for-”

The Black Fang learned a couple of important things in the next few seconds.

First, Ryota was fast. Maybe not super fast, but far faster than she would’ve guessed at a glance. She closed the distance in a rush, moving her bulky body along with startling speed. Enough to catch her off guard, a total surprise.

Second, she was strong. Well, that was obvious from the first moment she saw the woman, but it was made apparent - painfully - the moment her leg connected with the Black Fang’s knee. There bowling pins that put up a better fight than her lower body did. She went flipping, ass-over-teakettle, and would’ve landed right on her head if she hadn’t managed to get her hands up in time. Desperate for space, she scrambled away and rolled to her feet, coming up with a sloppy stumble.