Tension World Title: John Mitchel (c) vs. Makie Akamatsu

Makie was breathing through clenched teeth as she squeezed relentlessly into John. He was growing weaker each passing second, his breath ragged against her cheek, and yet in spite of everything, he was still fighting back. His strong middle body flexed and contracted between her thighs, and slowly but surely, he began to get up to his feet.

"No..." she cursed. She knew what John was up to, and had no way of stopping it other than wringing a KO from him here and now. Even as John stood to his full height, Makie clung stubbornly to him, her cheek brushing against his as she squeezed and choked the life out of him. Her own breathing was hard against John's ear, and she pressed her shoulder more tightly against his throat, hearing his own breath become more laboured.

Then, with a sudden rush of vertigo, John came hurtling forwards. Clinging as tightly as she was to John, Makie was unable to let go in time: the Japanese girl gave out a loud cry as she was slammed hard into the mat. The air erupted from her lungs, and her two grips instantly loosened as she lay stunned and spread eagled underneath John. The crowd roared, unable to believe what they had just seen, many now screaming for Makie to get back up after this big upset.

John heaved and panted as he slammed her down. As soon as the hold was broken, he gasped out and tried to catch his breath. He was panting as he tried to recover from what had just happened. He could hardly believe it. One moment, he was worried about being knocked out. The next moment, he was hurtling to the ground.

He heard the crowd shouting…what was happening? My neck hurts. Ohhhhh gawd…oh…a match…a match!

John shook his head a bit and slid forward, trying to get untop of her and hooking her leg. If this didnâ€t work, he knew he was just out of energy. He had to win NOW, she had pushed him further than any opponent had ever pushed him before.

“ONE!”

Makie's chest rose and fell lightly as she lay underneath John, her eyes closed as her head lay tilted to the side. Even though her fans were getting up from their seats and screaming for her to get up, she didn't move, didn't even roll her head at all. The match had taken its toll on the Japanese girl, and it looked like she was finally finished.

"TWO..."

The truth was, Makie was every bit Johnâ€s equal, despite their size difference. Heâ€d come a split hair away from loosing. If one even one tiny little thing hadnâ€t gone his way, heâ€d probably be the one being pinned.

If John was the unstoppable force, Makie was the immovable object. This time the force won, but it easily could have been reversed.

He panted and gasped as the two of them panted on the ground.

“THREE!” The ref shouted, and the bell began to ring loudly for John. The Ref tired to grab Johnâ€s hand and hold him up, but all he did was drop Makieâ€s leg and lay with his face on her abs for a second while he caught his breath.

“Canâ€t move.” John mumbled.

“Dead.” he concluded.

The bell rang, signalling John's victory at the end of this long, grueling match. The crowd went wild, erupting into screams and applause as the ref moved to raise John's hand in victory. Lying underneath John, Makie wasn't in much better shape. She seemed barely conscious, her eyes closed and her chest faintly rising and falling as she lay defeated on the mat.

As the bell rang, though, her eyes fluttered. She was barely conscious, but still conscious enough to realize that she had lost. She gave a muffled groan as she turned her head to the side, still looking quite dazed. Around her, the crowd began to murmur as the ref dropped down next to the two wrestlers, checking them over to see if either of them was seriously hurt. At her signal, orderlies rushed into the ring to check them over and hold smelling salts under their noses.

“AH!” John let out as the refâ€s orderlies put the vial ammonia scented smelling salt underneath his nose. He rolled off of Makie and slowly got to his feet. The ref raised his arm, handing him back his title. He smiled, a little, but barley took notice of it.

Instead, tossing the belt vaguely over his shoulder just so he could use his hands, he bent down to look at Makie and try to help her up. “My god, Iâ€ve been shot, bombed, and dodged mortars in a desert and this still was the toughest fight Iâ€ve ever had.” He said, looking over his striken opponent. “Are you…uh…can you stand?”

Makie's head shook left and right as the sharp, bitter tang of smelling salts stirred her. "Nnngh..." She began to breathe more heavily, blinking back to consciousness, before rolling onto her side slightly. Her body felt like it had been run over by a runaway freight train, but that was nothing compared to the knowledge that she had lost in her bid for the title belt.

As the medics began to stop crowding her, she saw John offering her a hand. She glared up at him. "Don't...need...your damn...help..." she managed to say, before trying to push herself back up. A sharp pain in her back, though, caused her to wince and nearly collapse again. Reluctantly, she took John's hand. "Fff...ffine..."

John let out a sigh as Makie, at first, refused his hand. He looked a little disappointed. After all that, heâ€d hate to think there were hard feelings. However, after a moment, she took his offer. He hoisted her up to her feet, much to the glee of the crowd. He smiled warmly. He always had this big, friendly smile on. When he helped her up, the crowed raved. After such an incredible struggle and epic fight, the cheering and thunderous applause were nearly shaking the arena.

Maybe John got caught up in the moment, maybe he just was coming down off an adrenalin high and feeling giddy, or maybe John just really admired his opponent after that fight…whatever the reason, he did something a little uncharacteristic. He had her hand, as if he was going to shake it, but instead he pulled her in and tried to give her a big, soft, and friendly hug.

It wasnâ€t any sort of groping hug—nothing crude or crass or inappropriate. Definitely nothing that was even trying to be romantic or harassing. It was more like the quick hug two straight buddies gave each other when celebrating. Johnâ€s embrace made many in the crowed cheer and applaud louder…this, of course, made John realize he totally shouldnâ€t be grabbing people and hugging them without their permission.

That, in turn, made his face turn almost as red as his hair. He quickly let go and stepped back. “S--sorry…fantastic match.” John said, stammering a bit. “Iâ€ll, uh…letâ€s get out of here I guess.” John said, still visibly embarrassed. He made it a special policy not to get touchy feely with his opponents in a non hentai setting. It probably had to do with his gentleman shtick. Too many douches in Tension, so he tried to set an example by showing that you can fight a female opponent without disrespecting them.

John would, if Makie accepted it, take her hand and let her lean on him for support while they both walked backstage and presumably parted ways.

With John's help, Makie stood up shakily, hobbling on her feet-- her firm grip on John's hand kept her from toppling over again. For a few seconds, she stood opposite John, staring warily at him as she caught her breath. The crowd couldn't tell if it was anger, wariness or respect that they saw in her eyes as she stared John down.

Then, eventually, John embraced her in a hug. Makie half-heartedly reciprocated, before stepping back, her cheeks flushed slightly.

"Y-yeah," she said, following John out of the ring, leaning on him for support. "Just...look, you're a nice guy, but don't think this is over, okay? You beat me this time, but I WILL be coming back for that belt. And I'll keep coming back for it as long as you or anyone else is holding it."

John smiled widely at that. "Ms. Akamatsu, I would not have it any other way."

John wins via pin and retains the Tension World Championship.