Daisuke Takeuchi vs. Hagiwara, Sakura - Part III (The Final Confrontation)

Its done? Did she really think a technicality would be the end of their rivalry? Anger and hate finally got the better of him, he could not hold it in any longer and lashed out. He lunged at her from behind, clobbering the back of her head with a vicious forearm strike that send her to the floor. She laid there groaning in pain as he reached down to grab her hair, pulling her back up to her feet. From there, he wrapped his arms around her and pushed her back first to the wall!

"It isn't done until one of us can't wrestle anymore" he said, gripping her hair to yank her head back and unleash a vicious chest slap across her breasts! "I'm going to make you quit professional wrestling" he said, attempting to wrap his arms around her waist again and trying a belly to belly suplex across the hallway!

“Ahh!” Sakura let out a squeal as her head was wrenched back as she was pressed to the wall. Daisuke’s palm clapped hard across her chest with an echoing crack, leaving her bosom throbbing with a deep red mark where he had struck. She lurched forward, grasping at her chest in pain. She was still so slow, so tired, so hurt… when he wrapped his arms around her again she weakly grasped at his shoulders, trying to shove him off to no avail.

With a weak cry, she was tossed like a ragdoll behind Daisuke, hitting the concrete floor hard on her side. She tumbled, rolling along the floor before her body struck the legs of a locker bench. She reached up, grabbing hold of the wooden seat of the bench, and started dragging herself away in a half crawl. “S-stop! This isn’t how you do this, this isn't  how you get better!”

Daisuke was furious, he simply could not stand losing and especially to someone like Hagiwara. He was supposed to the winner and Sakura the loser, there was no way someone who was a Idol turned wrestler could ever beat a 'real' wrestler like Daisuke. The prince was not going to let Sakura get away that easy, she might have won the battle but the war would be his.

After tossing her down to the floor, she would roll about eventually bumping against the feet of the wooden bench. She would use them to drag herself up a bit. "J-just shut up! I dont need you to teach me..." he said, clearly his tone reflected the frustration he had. He would walk up to her, grabbing her hair once more to pull her back up.

Daisuke attempted to wrap his arms around her waist, hoisting her up in a bearhug to squeeze the life out of her. "ARGHH!!! tell me, does it hurt? SAY IT....tell me I am the better wrestler...." he demanded while squeezing her. Their sweat soaked bodies pressed tight as they continued the fight in the locker room areas.

Sakura let out a small yelp as her neck was craned backward, her scalp igniting with a fiery burning as Daisuke clenched her hair in hand. The rest of her body followed as he pulled at her, being forced to bend at an awkward backward angle she was hauled to her feet. Within moments she was back in his arms, a crushing grip fueled by rage seemed more powerful than any hold he had put on her before. Her feet kicked weakly as she languished in the hold, still trying to get her bearings after the elbow shot from behind knocked her silly.

She wanted to scream, it did hurt. She couldn't respond to him, not like this, she couldn't encourage this sort of behavior despite how easy it would be for her to give in to his demands just to get him to stop. Her teeth grit together, eyes squinting in pain as she was squeezed tighter and tighter. One eye dared to open a bit wider to assess the situation. Trying to pry herself free would never work, she had to attack the situation head-on… literally. With labored effort, she lifted an arm that felt as though it was weighed down by lead and threw it forward. Once, twice, however many times she had to strike at the side of his face with the back of her forearm. She couldn't stop until she was free or else she might never escape.

If he could not make her admit that he was better by beating her in a match, he was simply going to squeeze it out of her, quite literally. After knocking her around a bit to get her dazed, he would grab her hair and pull her up into a tight bearhug. Both of them were extreme exhausted and were no doubt just running on adrenaline at this moment. He demanded that she tell him this hurt, that he was better but she kept tight lipped. She suppressed the urge to scream in pain while he shook her around, kept squeezing.

Suddenly, she reared her arm back and struck his face again and again. Each blow caused his grip to weaken until he finally let her go. Daisuke would stagger back until his back hit the steel locker and he leaned against it clutching his face. All the while, there was only one question on his mind. "Why can't I defeat her??"

When Daisuke’s grip started to weaken, she didn’t wait for him to let her go. Twisting in his grasp she shoved her arm out towards his face and thumped the side of her hip into his body, sending him towards the lockers. She wobbled on her feet, almost falling again but managing to stay upright. She needed a moment to breathe, to think… but she couldn’t afford that right now.

The idol wrestler stumbled forward in a semblance of a run, closing in on the wrestler prince she stepped up onto one of the benches and sprang off to shoot for the skies. her arms and legs spread wide, casting a wider net in case her opponent moved, but the dead center was her whole body and the momentum of her weight coming to crash down on him with a full body splash to sandwich him between the lockers. If he took the blow, she would reach up to grab for the side of his head, tugging it forward just to bash it back against the metal locker doors again and again.

In the midst of trying to break free, when Sakura realized her plan was working she would thump the side of her hip into him as she pummeled his face with her strikes. Eventually, the last strike coupled with the hip attack would force him to stagger back and stumble against the bench before his back finally hit the steel locker. He let out a small grunt and for a second he leaned against them, dazed.

Sakura's window of opportunity was small but she used it to perfection, running towards him and leaped off the bench as she spread her arms and legs wide to come crashing down on Daisuke as he leaned against said locker. Their sweat soaked bodies smacked against each other and he was flattened further against the steel.

"AHHHHHHHHH" he yelled but it was about to get worse as she grabbed his head and pulled it forward, only to smash it back against the locker again and again. He howled in pain but brought his knee up into her abdomen to counter, before grabbing her shoulders to switch their positions. Looking to repay the favour, he would grab her hair and give her the same treatment of bashing her head against the steel locker.

"Hah....tell me I am the best...SAY IT" he said, almost sounding desperate with emotion.

“Kuh!” Sakura’s eyes shot wide as a knee buried itself into her abdomen, losing her grip and making her lean forward. She shambled back, trying to get distance only to be grabbed by the hair again, and swung into the lockers with a hard metallic bang. Daisuke managed to slam her head back hard, but she wasn’t going to stay here. The idol wrestler’s fingers grasped the handle of the lockers, finding one beside the two of them that didn’t have a lock on it. She threw her weight to the side to pull herself away from her opponent, opening up the locker to yank the door open into Daisuke’s arm to smash one of the limbs trying to hold her down.

The match was long over but the two kept fighting. This was beyond a professional wrestling match, this was deeply personal between the two wrestlers. As Daisuke's head was banged against the steel locker, he would counter by kneeing Sakura in the abdomen before reversing their position and doing the same to her. He would demand that she verbally admit he was better, he needed that acknowledgement from her to prove a point and save face.

However, she would grab the handle of the locker to their side and suddenly move away, pulling it open and smashing it against his hand. "AHHHHH" he screamed in agony as he fell down to his knee, clutching his hurt arm in pain.

The metal locker door panged against Daisuke’s arm, buying her the opportunity she needed to shove herself free. Stepping away from the lockers, she threw her arm out, trying to hook it around the wrestling prince’s neck from beside him. She would shove her hip against his and pull with her arm, attempting to perform a judo-style throw and sending the man flipping back first onto the raised bench where his top half and bottom half would hand off the sides.

“You need to stop this before someone gets hurt!” Her cry was a genuine plea, a tremble in her voice. She had never seen him this driven and crazed and was concerned this would continue to spiral out of hand. While she didn’t outright continue to attack him, she stood ready, light on her feet to attempt to kick him back the moment he tried to rise to lunge for her without surrendering.