Galina Romerno vs Koyuki Sanada - Have At It

Do you know how long it takes to travel down from Tokyo to Osaka? 2 hours and some by bullet train, 3 hours by flight, nearly 6 hours by car, and a whopping 10 hours by bus. Even by bullet, that was a lot of time going back and forth and back and forth, especially for what amounted to a glorified hobby. Her work hours were long and organized crime did not sleep. She was on call all the time. So when Koyuki Sanada took her bi-monthly trip down to Momentum's homebase in bumfuck Osaka, she was expecting it to be worth her while.

She wanted a fight. She wanted a challenge. She wanted resistance. She wanted someone to fight her like their life depended on it, and thus far, she had been starkly disappointed. Momentum's gaggle of half-baked amateurs and hobbyists that had been offered for her were not the war she was promised, and she was beginning to wonder whether it was worth taking the time out of her busy schedule to do this. The train conductors of the Nozomi, the bullet train that she always rode down, were beginning to recognize -and worse- make idle chitchat with her as they checked tickets. No amount of glowering seemed to deter them. Their friendliness was a blight upon her day. The cons of this entire diversion were beginning to outweigh the questionable pros.

But today... she had some small hope the trip down would be worthwhile.

Spoiler:

Unlike her opponent, Koyuki marched her way down the ramp with no hint of enthusiasm or emotion. Her face was stone, her stride was brisk and purposeful, and her suited getup contrasted with Galina's more casual attire. Koyuki wasn't exactly sure what a roma was and she wasn't really all that interested, but her brief glimpse of the figure from the cage as she walked her way down held promise; she looked tough. The hair added character, she seemed reasonably muscled, the tattoo was sloppy. Points deducted there. Koyuki marched into the cage, took one long, hard look at her opponent, and returned to her corner. She shrugged out of her suit, laid her shoes by the side of the cage, and picked up the brass knuckles in her corner.

Unlike the Russian, Koyuki was thinking.

Brass knuckles were all well and good, sure, but they limited finger dexterity. She slid the first pair onto her right arm, flexing her finger as the cold metal coiled around her fingers; hard, powerful, heavy, but without the comfort of overt movement. Did she want that trade-off in a fight that could go to the ground? She slid the second set around her fingers, clenching and unclenching her fists, but she kept this one looser and not fixed at the base of her fingers. She stared at her opponent from across the cage with a look of a lizard contemplating a fly. The tattoo really had no artistry to it; the symbolism of threaded ink was lost upon the foreign thug. That smirk was just waiting to be wiped off her face. But Koyuki remained optimistic that this would be a fight.

And as the bell rang for the fighters to emerge from their corners, Koyuki did not waste any time. She darted out at full speed, seeking to meet her opponent in a head-on clash - or so it seemed. The The brass weighted heavy on her left hand and she threw her clenched fist back and chucked it into Galina's presumably accelerating head with all her might. Whether it struck home or not, she would follow up with a leaping punch to close the presumed bit of distance should her opponent stagger back, raising her fist back as she sought to struck Galina full-on in the hopefully dazed head with a brass-powered punch.

They say the few seconds right before the bell rang were the most aware you would ever be in a fight. A combination of tangled nerves, tensed muscles waiting to spring, and finally the uncertain anxiety of what came next. How would the opening exchange go? Who would drive the momentum? Koyuki was very much feeling that way - for all the wrong reasons. The coiled fear that this was yet another wasted trip down to Osaka, that she had boarded the train, waited around for hours, only to be greeted with yet another disappointing match was all that consumed her. She was this close to giving up on Momentum and trying her sorry luck elsewhere.

So when the first punch struck, found a pair of raised forearms to greet them, and held, a little ember of hope kindled inside her. The redhead took the punch well enough. Koyuki slid the brass-clad punch diagonally upwards, seeking to slice through skin as it separated, before she rejoined the distance between them with a bold leaping punch meant smash the redhead right in the face and drop her to the ground.

But the punch did not find it mark.

Everything happened within a single second. Koyuki leaping through the air, the redhead slipping to the side as she landed in her failed assault, and then the hard push kick that struck her in the midsection. That ember of hope flared ever so slightly. She hit reasonably hard. Nothing outstanding, but it smarted enough.

She would do.

Though the kick did land, it did not achieve its intended objective, and that would be because Koyuki Sanada grabbed onto the leg before it could be dislodged, crudely gripping into it with heavy brass-covered hands. In the split second that followed, she considered lashing out with her leg, tagging the redhead in the cunt. But no, too much in the way. Instead, with one arm still gripping onto the leg and pulling it taunt so Galina would remain unbalanced from hopping on only one, she swung her other arm into the inside of Galina's knee, digging into soft tissue, punching again and again and again as if she wanted to penetrate right through the bone.