Kazuya Ono vs Makie Akamatsu

And that was two.

The ring shook as Makie crashed down hard against Kazuya, causing her fans to erupt into cheers as she nailed her male opponent with yet another impressive aerial slam. Rebounding off of Kazuya, she took a brief second to catch her breath, and take stock of the situation. Kazuya was now on his front, barely moving after taking the full force of that moonsault. It would have been so easy to pin him, here and now, and end this match. But Makie had already decided she was going to go for a third moonsault, for the following reasons:

Firstly, because her finisher, Hurricane Makie, involved three consecutive moonsaults in a row. It was her signature finisher, an absolutely decisive match-winner that she pulled out against her hardest opponents, and if nothing else, Makie liked to stick to style when it counted.

And secondly, because Kazuya was a jerk, and deserved nothing less.

Huffing, Makie clambered up to the corner post again. "ONE MORE TIME!" she shouted to her fans, causing them to cheer her on. And then, with a deep breath, she launched herself backwards again, describing a graceful arc in the air as she came down at Kazuya for, hopefully, a final, devastating moonsault!

Kazuya got the distinct sensation that Makie was going for a trifecta of moonsaults moreso out of vengeful malice than out of adhering to any semblance of showmanship or tradition. Just call it a hunch of his. Especially given that the rebellious street punk appeared as if he was primed and readied to be pinned after having his midsection pulverized twice in a row to frenetic applause and adulation from those less inclined to witness Kazuya walk out of this ring the winner tonight. As to whether he could have kicked out of a pin attempt at this point in the game, well even with his own manful pride he was willing to admit that may have been an unlikely prospect.

"...Dya, hell..." Kazuya muttered underneath his own haggard breath after overhearing Makie's bellowed intentions to tack on further aerial torment, the Bad Boy most definitely being the only one in the audience who would have voted against a third moonsault. What didn't help matters was that he was splayed out like an "X" which made for a seamless targeting reticle for Makie. An exhausted Kazuya seemingly glued to the ring canvas as his pectorals heaved with each gasping breath and an infrequent bobbing of his head off the floor, paralyzed and defenseless as an easy notch in her win column...were it not for Kazu's tucked in knees at the very last second!!!

The fans were clapping. Her heart was racing. This was it, Makie knew. The finale. The moment to decide this match once and for all. The moment to finish Kazuya off once and for all, and to win this match in grande style.

Taking a deep breath, Makie leapt backwards. Time seemed to slow as she described a slow, graceful arc downwwards, descending towards the prone Kazuya....

...and saw, in that slow motion, that her male opponent was bringing his knees up.

"Fuu--- was all Makie managed to say, in the scant half a second before Kazuya's knees spiked up into her vulnerable midsection.

The impact caused her to violently jacknife off of Kazuya's knees and go crumpling to her side. "AUUUUGH!" came her ragged scream as she toppled to the match, clutching her midsection as she curled up into a ball. Her breathing became ragged and hoarse as she was left winded by the blow, one eye screwed shut as unbelievable pain flooded her abdomen.

Around them, the crowd went wild, unable to believe just how many twists and turns this match had had so far.

Kazuya may have never gone hunting a day in his adult life, but the backalley brawler has been in enough street fights to know the merits of playing dead and biding one's time until the opportunity was right. A strategy he may have never thought to utilize if Makie hadn't spent so much time hyping up her fanbase and making a trilogy out of her moonsaults when one or two may have done the trick. Kazuya instinctively recognizing the patterns and audio cues to tuck in his legs right when Makie was already airborne and incapable of doing much about it except getting freakin' rekt upon splashdown.

"...Tch..." Kazuya himself swiveling around onto his front side, hunched over with his legs tucked in. Kazu gritting his teeth from the pulsating aches in his legs since Makie's moonsault still didn't lose any of its meteoric impact regardless of where it landed. A beastial instinct taking over as he punched his fist into the canvas before he latched himself onto his writhing adversary. Situating her neck underneath his armpit with both of his tightened legs snatched around her midsection in his Sit Down, Be Humble finisher. Intertwining their sweat-soaked physiques and making breathing that much more laborious for Makie...

Makie was panting hard for breath now as she lay on her side, cradling her midsection after it felt like a boulder had slammed into it. Which, all things considered, wasn't entirely inaccurate as she had propelled herself from a great height straight onto Kazuya's knees. Her legs kicked weakly at the mat as she tried to muster up the strength to stand, to get back into this fight and not let this jerk take the upper hand again. The sheer, overwhelming pain flooding her body right now, though, was giving her a very definitive no.

Despite Makie's ironclad determination and despite the fans cheering and chanting her name, it was Kazuya who got up first, pulling a barely moving Makie up onto her butt in a seated position. A second later, Makie's short-haired head was tucked under Kazuya's arm, her neck squeezed as the side of her head was mashed against his sweaty abs...before Kazuya's legs clamed around her already sore midsection, and squeezed. Makie tried to scream as sharp pain shot through the whole of her lower torso, but it came out as a strangled rasp as Kazuya's arm cut off her air circulation.

The crowd was going wild now, many screaming for Makie to escape. The ref girl was instantly in front of Makie, asking if she wanted to quit. Makie weakly shook her head, droplets of water flying from her damp hair as she pried weakly at Kazuya's arms, At this point, the two wrestlers were perspiring from this right match, their sweat starting to comingle in this close, almost sensuous embrace. Makie might have found it hot, admittedly, if she wasn't on the verge of passing out.

Pain and a lack of air began to overwhelm her, and slowly but surely, her vision began to go dark as her limbs began to feel leaden...

Should Makie ever wanna learn what was the ultimate cause of this unforeseen change in events and possibly her downfall within this competitively contested match...well, Kazuya was confident that the ladies locker-room had it's fair share of mirrors in there. A malicious animosity fostered towards the Bad Boy and the overconfidence to think she could showboat to the audience to such an obnoxious degree were just some of the factors behind her currently sucking wind right now after her disastrous splashdown. This nightmare scenario for Makie was compounded moreso once she was unwillingly hauled up to become seated on her rump, a torqued musculature swelled all around her gasping head with a renewed vigor and feral intensity. Anchored down to the canvas in a front-facing guillotine and bodyscissor combination lock that Kazuya has often busted out to kayo drunken gangsters and club patrons’ numerous times who were kicked out the backdoor and into back-alley trash cans.

Cathartic though it may have been for the cantankerous sister to have boot treads on her ass after being ousted outta the ring, Kazuya was concentrating solely on scoring the "W" first and foremost as he remained settled on Makie's extended thighs. The sunbathed radiance of their physiques melding them together in sweat-slathered unison with fatigued breaths taken from both parties. Kazuya obviously acknowledging the suggestiveness of their intimate entanglement with the bloom of her breasts against his slickened abdomen, thoughts passing in his exhausted haze about Makie that she'd probably coldcock him for if she ever found out. Faint blush aside, Kazuya grimaced and slanted them both onto their sides against the canvas. The throttling submission squishing her head between the pistoned flexing of his bicep and sweat slicked definition of his abs, square in the middle of the ring with the referee on her hands and knees asking if Makie wanted to admit what was seemingly inevitable...

A wall of sweaty biceps and forearm muscles was compressing around Makie's head now, stifling her air, constricting around her throat, allowing her to breathe in nothing except Kazuya's perspiration. She gagged, and thrashed and twisted in his grip-- uselessly, as Kazuya's legs were now squeezing around her abdomen. Her face had quickly gone red, and it was all she could do to paw at those encircling arms, trying to find some way, any way, out of this increasingly intense squeeze.

Unfortunately for her, Kazuya proceeded to make escape that much more difficult a prospect for her as he quickly rolled the two of them onto their sides. With nothing now under her knees, Makie's legs were left open to kick uselessly against nothing as Kazuya continued to squeeze into her relentlessly. The whole of her body was being mashed up against Kazuya's firm abs, their sweat intermingling even as Kazuya crushed her in the double hold. Past the growing haze from her lack of air, Makie admitted, to herself, that this position was one hell of a turn on. It was a pity that it had to be against a guy like Kazuya.

Her vision was already starting to fade; red faced, her eyes glassy, she still managed to shake her head as the ref girl asked for her submission. At that point, however, everything finally began to go dark; her limbs finally fell uselessly against Kazuya's sides and back as her oxygen-starved brain finally slid into blissful unconsciousness...

It should obviously come as no surprise that the longer someone spends being subjected to a guillotine choke as fervently intensified as this one, the greater the likelihood you'll be waking up via a referee's smelling salts. Which meant the odds were growing in his favor every second his adversary thrashed and rebelled against the street punks submission. Makie absolutely earned Kazuya's respect throughout the course of the match. And in his world that meant not showing any mercy when it came to possibly putting a bow on this mother. Kazuya's exhaustion was palpable as his marbled physique grinded her down. Shimmering sweat caked over their sweltering body warmth, feelin' of conquering such a rebellious firebrand until her flailing resistance started becoming flaccid limpness. Shades of blushed crimson were shared all around it seemed, Kazu nevertheless bringing on the squeeze until...


...the referee performed their due diligence and signaled for the bell once it was officially confirmed Makie had been kayoed and was counting sheep. Some light patting on Kazuya's shoulder was all that was needed for the prize fighter to mercifully relinquish the submission, swiveling over to be splayed out on his back as he panted exhaustively. Makie sprawled out atop him as if they'd just finished rocking eachother's world in a manner altogether different, but after a few seconds Kazu shifted her over onto her own back. The street punk took some time to stand up on uncertain legs and bask in what was an absolute upset given Makie's vaunted veteran status, but once his arm was raised he exited the ring to make room for the official and medical crew to aid Makie with whatever she needed. Fatigued and battered, Kazu grimaced as he carried himself backstage with a "W" and what felt like a bruised rib.