Humanity Loss
Miho was not impressed with the club. She never fought anyone from Bridgeton, the slums of Chicago, to her. She knew they had some nice parts. The clubs where she had to go on behalf of the Ice Palace were usually well-kept, not hidden from the police. Even when the police invaded the clubs associated with fighting, they couldn’t pin anything down. Despite the crimes that were committed, the club owners were all experts. They put the Mafia and street gangs like the Bloods and Crips to shame. Nike’s involvement made it better for those who knew about the androids.
The Pitch was not like the other clubs. Like Bridgeton, it was rough, barely lit, but it was just as large as the Ice Palace. Two decent-sized dance floors where patrons were doing all sorts of dancing that could only be described as Irish. There were three large square bars with pitchers of beer. The center of each bar had a wall of wines, mostly from Ireland. The walls were filled with pictures of soccer players. Every couple of pictures, you would find other sports heroes. They had Chicago Bulls stuffed animals hanging from the ceiling by their necks.
To her surprise, there were all sorts of people dancing to the loud Irish rock music. Bobbing their heads up and down with no regard for who was next to them. There were a couple of scuffles that bouncers broke up. She noticed Black people who seemed to have natural red hair and green eyes, despite their darker skin, and Asians, too. The smell of beer predominated more than the other smells.
At the back of the club, she could tell, was the ring for the fights. Twenty feet squared, with green, orange, and white ropes. The mat itself was black with clover leaves. Soccer nets were posted around the club, which housed arcade games and other parlor novelty games. The bouncers and waitresses all wore leprechaun hats with their names. The waitresses were definitely dressed less than those from her club: light brown booty shorts, long sleeves, cropped white tops that accentuated their cleavage if they had it, and firm stomachs. At least she could tell that they were over eighteen. The men wore the same, except their pants were knee-length shorts, and their shirts were button-up and sleeveless. On all their shirts were soccer ball buttons.
Stepping into the ring was a rather tall girl, about maybe 5’8″. She always admired taller girls. She was fit too. She had rose-red hair that was shaved on the left and long, angled to her right ear. A green soccer jersey and a white purple singlet with the straps hanging off like a pair of shorts styled like soccer shorts. Her knee-high green socks were planted into black soccer cleats. She leaned against the ropes and took notice of them.
Miho locked onto her eyes as they studied each other. The girl was blowing a purple gum bubble that popped as she chewed. She held the ends of a white towel behind her back, waiting patiently for someone, anyone, to arrive. But Miho knew it was her. And she wanted the girl as well.
Anticipation quickened her pace as she felt a hand grab her. She almost punched Apollo for stopping her.
“Slow down, Grizzly. I know you want to mix it up, but we are here to ask her for help. Don’t forget that.”
Miho removed her arm and poked his ribs, not to hurt him, but to remind him. “Don’t grab me like that again. I told you. If she does start with me, there won’t be a problem.
“Just do me a favor, let me talk to her.” They made their way to the ring and entered. Miho couldn’t help but think that Apollo looked more nervous than he was around her. Kaitlyn’s reputation in the game was just like hers. Ruthless. Violent. It was hard to imagine that Apollo and Yoshii, and the fleshbag Princess, were once in a gang with Kaitlyn. There was no mistaking her. She stood there looking absolutely perfect for the taking.
“So, Kaitlyn, thanks for–”
Kaitlyn stood tall now and tossed her towel so fast that Apollo barely caught it before it hit his face. She smiled and popped another gum bubble.
“Get out of the ring, Apollo.”
“Um…” Apollo stalled, and again, Miho was shocked at the quietness of Apollo. He still managed to have bravado with her, but not with Kaitlyn. That made her uneasy and mad and… jealous.
“Your ribs are compromised, and your face hasn’t healed from whatever fight you had. Unless you want me to finish the job. Get out of the ring.”
“Kaitlyn, we’re not kids anymore. You can’t just boss me around. I’m Shades.”
“Oh, right, Shades. The lad who ran because he wasn’t man enough to keep his woman. Oh, I heard and I’m disappointed.”
Fire erupted from Apollo’s sneakers; he pounded a fist into his palm. “You know I’ve been waiting for this. You’re going down, Kaitlyn.”
Apollo charged, yelling as he leapt toward her. Miho was impressed that the rear didn’t make him slower. But she already knew the outcome. The trap was set from the beginning. Her cleats were made of rock or stone, but as she goaded Apollo, Miho noticed that they were expanding, and now spikes shot upward. Apollo’s jersey and shorts were caught as they reacted to her, and her other cleat rocketed her to him; she flipped, and her right foot swung downward on top of his head, slamming him into the ground just as the spikes fully retracted. She landed in front of him, blowing another bubble, and the left cleat became oversized as it kicked him, and he flew across the ring past Miho.
“Well, I hope you are more of a challenge, polar bear of the streets.” Kaitlyn spat her gum out and slapped the wad toward Miho. Tell me she didn’t just do that, Miho thought, and smiled.
“This isn’t your lucky day.” Miho’s oversized skates propelled her toward Kaitlyn, who jumped… Miho expected that the circle back to catch her as she landed. The crowd swarmed the ring, chanting her name. Fools, Miho thought, they are about to see her dead. I don’t care if she can help.
Miho arrived as Kaitlyn touched the ground, tripping her, but Kaitlyn, as if she knew, managed to roll out from Miho’s stomp. I should’ve sliced her head off; she’s as good as they say.
“I see you’re out to kill me. Your rep is what they say. You live by the Mortal Kombat rule.”
“Stop talking and fight.” Miho leapt with a figure eight, trying to use the blades to deliver a dropkick. Kaitlyn once again dodged and countered with her own, knocking Miho back onto the ground.
“This isn’t some video game.” Kaitlyn’s spikes rocketed her towards Miho. For a brief moment, she panicked, but cartwheeled out of the way with grace that contrasted her savagery. Looking around and taking in the cheers for Kaitlyn, Miho started doing jumping jacks to show she wasn’t impressed with Kaitlyn’s attacks.
“I can do this all day,” Miho said as they locked up and she threw Kaitlyn at the ropes. She tried to connect with a flurry of blade kicks, but Kaitlyn countered by doing an elegant cartwheel of her own to avoid it, turning her back on Miho to pander to the crowd. She turned to point right in Miho’s face.
With no thought or emotion, Miho, with deadly elegance, lunged for her throat, but a spiked boot almost connected with her face, making her stumble backward to the laughs of the crowd as she landed on her butt. She looked around and couldn’t believe that her grace, her beautiful disaster techniques, were not working.
They circled each other as Miho tried to figure out what was going wrong. She knew of Kaitlyn being a chessmaster in the ring. She didn’t disappoint. The Perfect Shamrock Striker is what the crowd chanted. Miho rarely lost, and usually because she let the beast take over and lost her beauty. She felt like she had the advantage. After all, Kaitlyn didn’t know she was coming, and Miho fought off instincts, unpredictability hidden by graceful techniques. But it’s almost as if… as if… She fell into a bear trap and didn’t realize it. She wanted Kaitlyn’s head, more than anything else in the world. Even more than Nike.
They locked up, and Miho poked Kaitlyn in the eyes. She wasn’t expecting that, Miho sneered. Slipping behind her into a rear waist lock, she could feel the beast wanting her to suplex and maybe break Kaitlyn’s neck or spine. Kaitlyn reeled from the poke but still managed to reverse the hold, then now controlled Miho. Not to be undone, Miho reversed it herself. Both of them are showing their technical aptitude. They had similar rushdown styles, so Miho thought grappling would take Kaitlyn off her game. Kaitlyn ran towards the ropes and slid; Miho held on, but Kaitlyn spun as the hold laxed. The momentum of their sliding carried Miho under the rope and onto the curb, hard as the crowd erupted.
“YOUR WINNER of this UNSANCTIONED streetfight by RING OUT.. THE SHAMROCK STRIKER… The perfect chaos… KAITLYN!!!”
Kaitlyn peered over the top at Miho, the beast not responding anymore as the shock of the loss hit her. She wanted to devour the crowd, but that was against the rules. A good way for her not to succeed in protecting her siblings. For better or worse, she had to take this loss.
“That’s how you trap a bear, folks. The polar bear of the streets? More like the teddy bear of the sheets. Should’ve done ya homework, lass. I studied all ya fights, just in case we ever had to fight. Ask Apollo, I’m always prepared for a FIGHT because…” Kaitlyn pandered to the crowd with outstretched arms as the microphone above her head scaled up a bit. “IT’S ALWAYS FIGHT NIGHT WHEN YOU ARE BRIGHT,” the crowd yelled in unison.
They are all going to die, Miho thought as she stood up and ran back into the ring. Standing face to face with Kaitlyn. They didn’t move other than Kaitlyn chewing another piece of gum.
“So those rumors are true, too. You beat and kill people after matches. Wanna try ya luck, lassie?”