Phoebe Vermillion vs Akane Saito

Phoebe, hearing Akane's voice, calmed her down a bit, finally snapping her out of her funk, but not before being suddenly thrown to the turnbuckle. She let out a thunderous roar, her spine taking the full brunt of the attack. Her legs were beginning to fail her, the blonde wrapping her arms around the ropes to stop herself from falling. She hadn't thought about it until now, but she was in the midst of a match—a job, to be specific.
It allowed her to finally see that she's been dragging down the reputation of both girls for her to be so emotionally weak like this. Her opponent was completely right; it shouldn't have been such a big deal. Of course, she didn't hate her, and didn't want to, but only if she could, maybe she wouldn't be drowning in her own foolish moral compass.
Nonetheless, it didn't matter, Phoebe dashing back at Akane, and snatching her in a bearhug. She held tightly to her, making sure she couldn't transition into her next attack. In all honesty, she wanted a hug, and some more reassurance from the sweet woman; to say something Yona would never, or just couldn't. But, she also took it as a chance to unveil her true intentions so that the match would go about far smoother, with Phoebe taking the loss for her opponent.
"I saw how your fans treated you! I was raised to always pick the needs of others that had less than me, and I'd rather you take the win if it can make you look a little better in the eyes of the people!"

Akane watched Phoebe explode out of the corner towards her and hoped the blond hadn’t been deceiving her. She threw her arms wide, intentionally going slowly than she could react to allow the other girl to grab onto her. She winced when she was hefted up into the bear hug, grunting at the tightness of how she was being held. She was putting a good deal of trust in her opponent to not take advantage of the moment while they worked through what Akane could only assume was stage fright.

“People can be mean, but…” Akane lifted her legs, wrapping them around Phoebe’s waist so she wasn’t dangling in the other girl’s grab. Despite hooking her ankles, she didn’t squeeze her thighs at all and simply used it as a means to anchor herself. “It doesn’t bother me, they are just strangers. I would rather lose a hundred matches giving it my all than have someone lay down for me. Winning doesn't mean anything if you don't work for it.”

“I don’t want your pity, I would rather have your respect. So lets wrestle a good match, and show everyone just how great we can be.” Akane placed her hands on Phoebe’s shoulders and uncoiled her legs, putting up a real attempt at breaking herself out of the bear hug.  If she managed to escape, she wouldn’t go on the offense again though, just hold her hands up ready to grapple and circle Phoebe. She wanted to make sure both of them were on the same page before actually starting the match between them.

Akane pushed herself out of Phoebe's embrace, the blonde loosening her submission. Her opponent made good points, and now that she revealed her real intentions, winning wouldn't have the same glory for Akane now. In a way, she felt slightly pressured to comply with her opponent, knowing that, at the end of the day, they were competitors—oppositions—maybe rivals. It didn't need to end here for the both of them, and no matter who won, Phoebe would still want to be her friend in the end, and help her out with her reputation. It was ironic that she was labeled as the reasonable one in her group, but only just finally understood a loophole in her philosophy, regardless, she was now back on track. A certain type of determination in her aura as she faced her opponent. The match finally came underway, Phoebe sweeping Akane off her feet, and grabbing her by the hair—the blonde heroine swinging her into the turnbuckle It was a brutality that most didn't assume she had in her, but for the sake of everything that had just happened, alongside the factors that still haunted her, she was far too out of it to realize she was going all out.

She could see something building up inside Phoebe, her demeanor slowly changing. Akane took a deep breath, readying herself for whatever was to come. She had to remind herself that whatever happened next, she did the right thing. While she had suffered her fair share of humiliating losses, they had been at the hands of her own shortcomings and weaknesses. She was willing to accept that. To have taken an empty win out of sympathy would have gnawed at her guts, ultimately she would have been exploiting her opponent. That wasn't who she wanted to be.

Phoebe came at her fast, grabbing handfuls of her pink hair. Akane reached up, grasping at her opponent's wrists, trying to hold her at bay or pry her off. She was surprised by the outburst but couldn't find it in herself to be mad, this was what she wanted. Then it all happened at once, her opponent putting her strength on full display as she spun Akane about, hurling her into the corner. All the rookie could do was twist her body, allowing her back to absorb the impact. The ring ropes shook as she was hammered into the corner, letting out a pained cry as she bounced off the turnbuckles and collapsed to her hands and knees.

Phoebe's display of cruelty seemed to have reached its peak then and there, as she patiently stood silently, eagerly anticipating her opponent's recovery. Although unintentional, the sheer power behind her attack seemed to have balanced the scales between them. With her hands raised in a defensive stance, Phoebe was prepared for whatever retaliation might come her way. She still showed kindness to her opponent in waiting, despite the crowd's immediate fixation on the glimpse of a potential fight in her every movement. She swayed her hips back and forth, the adrenaline rushing down her body like fire to wood. Her heart pounded, a spark flickering at every beat. There was a sense of strength in her stern expression; her auburn-colored eyes and cold sweat dripping down her bangs glistening with hope.
She considered lending a hand to her opponent—to help the fight continue faster, but she stopped herself. She knew Akane didn't want her pity, so she wouldn't show even an ounce of it, but even so, she'd never betray the good values her father taught her. Moreover, she did feel a bit bad that she might've taken her by surprise. Especially since minutes earlier, she was sobbing and whining like a child. In hindsight, it was pathetic for her to have shown such weakness in the ring. It was completely within her character, and she was still overwhelmed with things in her personal life, but she was a wrestler first and foremost. She'd suck up her feelings and take the win for herself, yet not without doing it her way. She had made it this far in the industry by her loyalty and kindness; that would never change, no matter how backed into a corner she was.
"Bring your best attacks, because I'm going to show you what I can really do!" Phoebe barked, clenching her fists tighter. It seemed like something her friends would say, but the only difference was that she didn't mean it as an act of disrespect or overconfidence on her part. It was what she planned to do, and do it with style she would; the rich girl unable to escape her theatrical affliction at times.

“Nnnh…” The first attempt she made to rise was met with a jolt of pain from her still throbbing back, jarring enough her palms almost slipped out from under her. She took a shuttered breath and made a second attempt, easing up onto the balls of her feet, pushing her hands up from the mat to stand on fingertips in the subtle stance of a runner. She peered up at Phoebe from a veil of pink hair and gave the one the smallest of nods. Despite the pain, she seemed to approve there was no holding back now.

“Haaaah!” She sprang to life, keeping low, leading with her shoulder as she charged her opponent, attempting to ram her shoulder into the woman’s midriff and reach around her with a spear, trying to take her down to the ground. If she managed to bring Phoe to the canvas, she would try to push herself backward, practically pouncing at her opponent’s leg to grab for her calf. An arm would come around to try to hook around the leg while the hand would clamp down at the sole of her boot to apply an ankle lock.

Phoebe had made the proper preparations to slide out of the way, but she was caught off guard by her opponent's speed. She went tumbling backwards, a slight pain in her gut that stuck like a parasite, her waist quickly twisted backwards as she was maneuvered into an ankle lock. The blonde heroine let out a soft, short-lived squeal. She attempted to squirm around in hopes of escape, but she wasn't all too sure it would work. If one thing was for certain about Akane, she had a tight grip on her leg. She wondered if she could just pull her leg out from inside her boot and escape, but she reasoned that it was a pretty ridiculous idea. However, it certainly did beat the pain she was under.
She slammed her fist against the canvas, the pressure on her leg reaching its prime; her face distorting into that of a wincing doll. Even in pain, she still couldn't escape her beauty, and the audience was well aware, barking and cheering; excited to see some real action on the part of Akane. Of course, her friends were on her side through the entire event, now screaming vulgar profanities at her opponent. It softened the pain a bit, Phoebe admiring their carelessly rude personalities.
It refilled her on motivation—enough to spark a lightbulb in her mind. She quickly tried to kick at Akane's face with her other leg. It was a risk, and it wasn't guaranteed that she'd land a direct hit, especially when she couldn't face her opponent, but it was worth a try if it would prevent her from losing in a humiliating submission. If she were to lose, she'd rather lose in a blaze of glory—or a knockout, to be more specific.

“Got you.” Akane muttered under her breath, though it didn't seem as though she was gloating but talking to herself to boost her confidence. She kicked a leg up, hooking them both around Phoebe’s leg as she cranked the hold. Her arms strained as she poured all her strength into its application, her sole focus on the execution of the hold.

When Phoebe kicked back it caught her squarely on the side of the face, snapping her head to the side with a flurried cascade of pink hair and a spray of sweat and saliva. It was a good hit, one that rocked Akane enough that the hold she had on the submission had been weakened. The young rookie gave her head a small shake, blinking her eyes with a wince. She now saw the obvious flaw in her application of the lock and really didn't want to get kicked in the face again like that. Rather than trying to clamp down on the hold again, she released it and uncoiled from her opponent, rolling to the side to start rising to her feet. She was a bit wobbled but still seemed capable of putting up a fight.

Phoebe flipped herself on her stomach, and got on all fours—she noticed that she was a bit sluggish in her transitional retreat, in comparison to her opponent, who had gotten back up quickly. Nonetheless, there was still enough distance between them for her to make such a mistake in the midst of battle. Though, to solidify the divide between them, she used her hands to slap the canvas, and push her to the ropes. Now, she stood opposite from Akane, prepared to take control of the match, with a plan of her own coming into fruition.
She noticed that Akane's balance wasn't all there, so she quickly took advantage of that. She wrapped her fingers loosely across the top rope, and sprung her boots on the mid-bar, hurling herself over to her opponent, directing all her vigor into a swift punt she hoped would connect with the side of Akane's face.

Akane had been the first to rise but hadn’t been ready to capitalize on the good fortune. One eye was squinted nearly shut unable to keep it from twitch blinking after the kick to her face. As Phoebe rose, one of the pink-haired girl's boots tucked back in a defensive brace, just in case they made a move before she did.

It had been a good call, the blond took little time in launching out aggressively. The style of attack took Akane by surprise, unsure of what Phoebe was doing until she had springboarded from the corner and flew at her. In a startled panic, she threw her arms up defensively to block her face, flinching from the impact as the kick buried itself in her guard, ignoring her forearms with intense pain.

The kick sent Akane to the mat hard, even without hitting its intended target. The young rookie’s body bounced, skipping once across the canvas before the momentum dissipated leaving her on her back. She turned over onto her side, clutching her arms to her chest with a soft whine, flexing her fingers to try and work the numbness out of them.