Jesse Rogers vs Koyuki Sanada

Match Style: MMA
Rules: Three Rounds. Each round has a five minutes duration, with a rest period of one minute between. If the final round ends before a fighter has won, the judges will determine a winner.
Victory Conditions: Win by Decision, Submission, KO, or TKO.

Jesse Rodgers busied herself with stretches backstage while she waited for her cue to go to the ring. She would be lying through her teeth if she said she wasn’t nervous about this fight. After all, she’d seen some of her opponent’s previous matches in preparation and knew she was in for the fight of her life. The American kept a stone face and focused demeanor, showing no outward sign of the proverbial butterflies in her stomach. Her brother, Josh, watched her while leaning against a nearby wall, and could clearly see through her.

“There’s no shame in being nervous, you know? I don’t think anyone would blame you,” the giant said, though Jesse didn’t even look at him in response.

“Why would I be nervous?” she asked, as if it wasn’t obvious.

“Uh, Koyuki Sanada?” Josh said, raising a brow. “You know, the woman who choked out Sara Conner by standing on her fucking throat? Not gonna lie, that was kinda hot, but still. That chick’s a monster, and this is your first fight since coming back here. I’m just saying, are you really sure you want-”

“Shut the fuck up, Josh! Of course I want to do this!” Jesse interrupted, sighing heavily as she paused from her stretching to look up at her brother. “Look, I’ve been waitin’ way too long to get back into a ring here. I’m not about to bitch and complain because they gave me a tough matchup right off the bat.” She marched up to him, and reached a hand up to jab a finger into his massive chest. “You belong in this company,” Jesse said, before pointing a thumb at herself. “And so do I. We don’t prove that by ducking fights.” Before she could say anything else, her entrance music began to play over the arena speakers. It was time to go. “Are you coming with me or not?”

Knock You Out:

Josh just chuckled. “Of course I’m coming. Was just gettin’ you riled up a bit to help get that nervous energy out, that’s all.” Jesse actually almost came relatively close to smiling at that. She nodded, then turned and went through the curtain with Josh following right behind.

Jesse Rogers:

She marched straight ahead to the ring, ascended the steps, entered through the ropes and went right into her corner without the slightest bit of posing or fanfare, a polar opposite of her sister Julia tended to do things over in Friction. Josh settled into place in her corner, taking a knee outside the ring and still managing to be nearly as tall as most fans in the front row. Jesse resumed her stretches, just using the movement to keep herself busy while she waited for this Koyuki woman to join her in the ring…

In contrast to Jesse, Koyuki was cool as a cucumber with Bulgari sunglasses. She was lying down on one of the benches in her locker room in her mma attire, hands rested on her bare belly. She stared up at the ceiling, slowly counting down the agonizingly slow seconds until she could go out and fight. The fight game, she realized now more than ever, had more to do with endless waiting than actual fighting. Too much sitting around and wasting time and slowly questioning whether you need to indulge in violence against trained opponents was worth jumping through the hoops of an actual promotion. She had done every warmup, stretched every muscle, calmed every thought - and they still had not called out her name.

Ridiculous.

Her only actual concern about the match had nothing to do with her opponent at all. She had unshakable confidence in her ability to triumph against this Jesse Rogers from New Mexico who, as far as she could tell, was neither new to the promotion nor actually mexican. More western deceit.

But no, digressions aside, her actual troubles were of a far more bureaucratic nature.

“I didn’t get any of that,” she said to her friend, archenemy, and fellow martial artist Ai Masuyo. She had waited so long she rang her up and Ai Masuyo just happened to be in the building. “Can you repeat it again?”

Ai Masuyo sighed and leaned back into the bench, running a hand through her hair. This had to be like the third time. "You can't scratch your opponent’s eyes, you can't spit in their faces, and you can't threaten to burn their homes to the ground with their pets still inside."

Why? Koko was puzzled. It was so efficient.

"Honestly, Koko. It's like high-school all over again."

“That’s can’t be right at all,” Koyuki insisted. She was still staring at the ceiling, but she raised one of her gloved hands in Ai Masuyo's direction. “If they wanted us not to scratch or poke, they would have covered the gloves.” She waggled her bare fingers. “Spitting, I get, it’s a bureaucratic health concern to protect the Japanese from whatever inbred Faux-Mexican parasites this Jesse girl has. Annoying? Yes. But reasonable-”

"America isn't going to forgive you if you keep talking like that." Ai Masuyo responded.

“-That last point is complete bullshit. Are we fighting or coddling diapered children? Nonsense.” She scoffed.

It was like talking to a death row inmate, which Ai Masuyo could say with 95% certainty that Koko wasn't. She brought two fingers up and poked the yakuza leader on her left temple. "It's not bullshit. Don't complain. You're having a match. Matches have rules, Koko."

Rules that she should know inside and out by now, but then, this was Koyuki Sanada. The only member of their old highschool MMA club to fight with zero training. The look on her face now was eerily familiar to then. The Demon of Shibuya couldn't help but flash her trademark grin at her lifelong friend. "You don't have to act nervous. Just fight with all your heart and don't look back! I know you've got it in you!"

Whatever pep talk Masuyo thought that would inspire flew right over Koyuki’s head. She didn’t even register it as such. “I don’t have 'it' in me,” she said factually. “This isn’t fighting. This is-” She didn’t even have the words for it. To demonstrate, she reached across with one hand and flailed away at Masuyo with cartoonishly flimsy slaps. “It’s that. It’s playfighting. It’s what you get when you let bureaucrats decide when to fight, how to fight, and why to fight. Can you - Wait, can I even punch in this? Can I throw knees? Or is even that too barbaric in this civilized age? I suppose I could just admonish this Jesse Rogers harshly.”

She cleared her throat. “'I strongly disagree with your stance on this issue, Miss Rogers. Referee, may I strike her in the stomach to convey my displeasure?'” Koyuki rolled her eyes. “'Yes you may, Miss Sanada. Proceed to hit your opponent in a timely and orderly manner. Please don’t forget to bow before incapacitating your opponent.'”

"That's becauuuuuuuse," Ai Masuyo's hands reached over and dribbled Koko's cheeks with equally light slaps between her hands. A hand came down and smacked her across the shoulder one last time. "You're not scrapping, weirdo. You're showing your skills against a fellow competitor, so show them honor and respect. I figured a yakuza would know a thing or two about that."

Masuyo shrugged and sat up from the bench, stretching her arms into the air. It felt like she'd been sitting for an hour. "It's always 'bureaucracy this' and 'bureaucracy that'-”

“Because it’s true. Did you see how many forms I had to sign to get into this locker room?”

“-and 'our society is but a shadow of its grand past-”

“Factually undeniable. We are a defeated people shackled by technological complacency.”

“-and I wish the foreigners would drown in the sea.'-”

“Did you know the sharks refuse to eat the survivors at Pearl Harbor? Even hungry animals know crap when they see it.”

“This is why you've never had a date."

“Wrong again. I’ve had plenty of first dates.”

The ramen girl turned and placed her hands at her hips. "Restraint and discipline also mark the path of a warrior, Koko. I mean, I've been doing MMA half my life and I'm way stronger than you! Maybe this Jesse-san will surprise you too! You never know, right?!" She urged with a pumped fist.

Koyuki scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I’m here. At your request. Doing something I’ve outgrown. What more do you want?”

Masuyo pursed her lips and crossed her arms. There was one more thing. She wasn’t sure it was possible, but she wouldn’t mention it if she didn’t think it would help. “Be nice? Just for a little bit?”

Hmmmm.

“You know what? I’m already here. Let’s give it a shot. Let's see how the sheep live.”

And then the most wonderful thing happened: her name was called. Koyuki Sanada, Koyuki Sanada. Please proceed to blah blah blah. Outside, she could hear her entrance music playing.

Spoiler:

She sat up, patted her face, put on an uncharacteristic smile, and began trying this 'nice' thing Ai Masuyo was always talking about. She was treating it as a dare, a challenge, and like all dares and challenges it would be defeated and discarded. More importantly, maybe the sheep-like attitude would mold her into instinctively getting these absurd, banal rules right. They were sheep rules and it took sheep to get them.

"Thank you so much for keeping me company," she said, bowing to Ai Masuyo. "I appreciate your friendship. You are a joy to talk to." She bowed again. it sickened her. And with that, she walked out of the locker room, down the hallway, and turned right out into the ring.

MMA:

In a mirror of Jesse Rogers, Koyuki Sanada had no time for fanfare or posturing. She went straight to the ring, slipped through the ropes, but didn't bother circling the ring once. Nope, she went straight for her corner. Didn't make eye contact with Jesse either. When the time came for both fighters to come forward, the referee signaled them over. Only then did Koyuki get a good look at Jesse Rogers: Strong, undeniably, with well-toned muscle to her hands and legs, and a defined torso. Credible. She would stare at Jesse for a moment, her eyes cold and unreadable, and-

Right, be nice. Had to be nice.

"Let's have good match." Koyuki 'nice' Sanada said to Jesse, bowing slightly. She plastered a smile on her face and offered out her gloves for a tap. "May best woman win."

Which would be her but whatever. Guess being nice was just lying continuously about stuff they both knew were fake. What a world.

*credit to berial for the collab with Masuyo Ai

Josh couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard more appropriate entrance music for a fighter. It was just…drums, but there was something unsettlingly ominous about it. The feeling wasn’t unwarranted either. After all, it was alerting of the arrival of Koyuki Sanada, a woman Josh had referred to as a “monster” only moments ago. And though he knew Jesse wasn’t the type to pay much attention to people’s music, he had a feeling that deep down she was having similar thoughts.

If Jesse was thinking along those lines, however, she didn’t let it show. She just stared Koyuki down while the woman made her entrance. It didn’t seem her foe had any interest in looking her way though, at least not until both were beckoned to the middle of the ring. Then she was…quite surprised when Koyuki smiled, bowed, and offered a gesture of pleasant sportsmanship. Not at all what she was expecting. Her brows raised, and she almost felt an urge to turn back toward her brother and ask if this was really the same person he’d been talking about.

“Yeah…” was all she said, touching her gloves to Koyuki’s before backing up to her corner once more. When both fighters were ready, the bell rang to officially get the bout underway! With her fists up, Jesse quickly shuffled around, giving herself plenty of room for a retreat if need be, but not closing in too quickly either. Her knowledge of Koyuki was limited, but she knew the woman had a tendency to be aggressive. So if her foe lived up to that expectation and came too close, Jesse would try to punish her for it by swinging a strong, stiff kick right for the woman’s thigh.

The words rang hollow when she spoke it. Sportsmanship, they said, was a showcase of respect and dignity not only to the competition but to the self, but all Koyuki could see were shackles; a pair of handcuffs and an unwritten oath to adhere to a set of arbitrary competition rules that differed from region to region. They took the blood out of the blood sport and pretended it was still the same damn thing: two women going into an arena and only one of them stepping out

Barring decisions

Or some submission

Or some egregious foul.

Or some other inane thing in a big book of bureaucratic rules dictating orderly combat.

Whatever. This was ruined enough for her as it was going in, and she was going to take what little joy she could glean from this.

The bell rang and the fighters were off. In stark contrast to Jesse's more measured approach, Koyuki was not a strong believer in half-measures. She came in hard, fast, and strong. No stance, no feeling out the waters, no slow analysis - she charged full speed, breaking into a run that would have ended with a knee smashing into Jesse's chest had it not been for her caution. Alas, the more defensive approach drew first blood and the kick caught her on the thigh just as she raised her knee, sending her Koyuki back a step to steady herself, to root herself.

Okay, she thought, she hit well.

Without missing a beat, her own leg lashed on in a retaliatory kick to her opponent's thigh, eager to return the favor!