//------------------------------// // Round Five // Story: Hard As Diamond // by jmj //------------------------------// “That’s the heart I want to see, Diamond!” Flicker Jab exclaimed, crouching before his fighter as the ice bag rolled across her sweating, huffing body. “I don’t know how you managed to get out of that armbar, but it won’t work twice. I think you're even on the scorecards. I don’t care what happens, don’t go to the ground again.” Diamond shook her head, the wound under her eye had been gooped with vaseline again and it had stymied the flow of blood. She accepted the water offered and swallowed a couple shallow drinks, just enough to slake her thirst. “I’m not going down again, Flick.” “Whatever happens, Diamond, you’ve fought your heart out. You are a champion. Go show her! Make her regret coming into your cage!” Flicker Jab grabbed Diamond and hugged her suddenly.  Diamond hugged the old coach back just as Stone Soufflé called for the cornermen to exit the cage. Standing, Diamond could feel the toll the fight had taken on her body. She felt awful, bruised and broken. Her body ached in ways she had never imagined and there were still five more grueling minutes through which to wade. Diamond’s swollen, boil-colored leg threatened to fail on the first step and she forced it to move normally, accepting the screeching pain. Not yet. She could show weakness after the fight, not before. Hera couldn’t perceive the damage she had taken until the fight was safely in the rear view mirror. Stepping to her mark, Diamond looked across the cage to her opponent. She took stock of their appearances. Diamond’s black top was sticky and damp with blood and sweat. The glean of her muscled body caught the light but it also illuminated the purpling, blackening bruises stretching like agonizing tentacles beneath her ribs, eye, and calf. Her fists hurt in the gloves from throwing them so hard into Farnese’s powerful body. Her cornrowed hair poked up in loose strands here and there from wrestling. She brushed an errant shock from her eye and accidentally made contact with the roll of nickels poking out from the side of her eye socket. Tomorrow, the eye would not open and she’d have to wear shades to hide the discoloration. But that was tomorrow, she had a fight to win. Farnese Hera stood across from her, dribbles of blood continuing to run from her nose like a leaky faucet down her ruined top. The once stiff, crimson mohawk had wilted and lay strewn and dead like roadkill across Hera’s head. Her nose was gone, spread across her face in shattered remnants and yet she still wanted to fight. Hera was a beast, a monster, and Diamond was proud to face her as an equal. Huffing and puffing, breathing through her mouth in heavy gasps, Hera’s cardio was fading but her heart would see her through, Diamond knew. The former champion looked exhausted, hurt, and compromised, but she, like Diamond, refused to go away.  The ref looked between the fighters, asked if they were ready, and began the round. “Last round, ladies.” Hera, not taking the Muay Thai stance, stepped calmly but tiredly to the center with her arms wide. Diamond met her and wrapped the larger woman in a hug. It had been a fantastic fight and they both acknowledged each other in the center of the cage. The crowd revved like a chainsaw and cheered at the show of respect. “Best fight of my career. Thanks for not taking the easy way out, Diamond,” Farnese whispered. “Thanks for bringing the best out in me. You’re so good, Hera, it’s an honor to fight with you,” Diamond answered. “No decision?” Hera asked. “None. One of us goes out on their shield this round,” Diamond agreed. They released the embrace and Hera fell into her stance. “Too bad it’s going to be you, Tiara.” “We’ll see.” Diamond took up a boxing posture and the pair circled, bouncing on the balls of their feet. They circled like two injured sharks, each smelling the other’s blood and readying to frenzy to the end. They studied, perceiving each other's movements for flaws and hoping their own limitations weren’t as obvious as they felt. Diamond’s lead leg was heavy and she wondered if it would remain structurally sound if she shifted her full weight onto it. She could see Hera’s front foot posting to the mat, not bouncing as it had before, meaning her rear leg was similarly worn. Tactics were being weighed, the toll of each movement scrutinized in risk and reward. The pair continued to circle. The roar of the crowd and shouting of cornermen disappeared until it was just Diamond and Hera remaining. They could hear one another’s breaths, the tapping of moving feet, the lumbering from fatigued bodies. There was little gas left for style, bravado, or flair. All that was left were two women vying for dominance at the top of the strawweight division and the years of practice and training. A minute passed before Diamond landed the first strike of the final round, a short jab that ricocheted off of one hard cheek. Hera flinched and came forward with a front kick that dug into Diamond’s solar plexus, pushing her back a step.  Leaning forward, Diamond’s arms felt heavy and she dipped her head, looking up at Hera as she launched a body hook, right uppercut combination that Hera rolled with, minimizing the damage. The blows were answered by a stinging short left hand from Hera that caught Diamond on the cut, tearing it open to rain drops of crimson once more. Diamond set her back foot and thrust an arcing body blow with her lead leg that brought Hera’s right arm down to clasp into her ribs. Being tired, she was more susceptible to body shots and covered her liver with the elbow, not wanting to be dispatched from a heavy kick to the vulnerable internal organ. Hera fired off a body kick in exchange; her power leg, damaged but still able to be thrown, cracked into Diamond’s left ribs. The Rich girl took the damage and returned a right straight for the trouble but Hera slipped it. Diamond leaned in again, baiting Hera with her unprotected head. The right hook came and Diamond whipped back, dodging the punch, and countered, reaching over the wide strike to land a stiff jab directly into Hera’s destroyed nose. The larger woman fell back a step and Diamond pressed, throwing another jab that similarly caught the former champion. Each strike to the ruined nose caused Hera to reel in pain and retreat back a step. Diamond was chasing Farnese and she followed the jab with a long right step, her power hand following the motion for a shift punch, a powerful strike used to cover a lot of ground. The shot clubbed Farnese on the jaw and her head jerked to the side as she crashed against the cage. Not letting Hera off the hook, Diamond squared up and pumped repeated body blows like pistons with both hands. Hera tried and failed to cover up, her body knocked about and blitzed by heavy, energy-draining strikes as she leaned into the fence. Diamond, similarly, was growing tired from the repeated motions of the strikes and wished Farnese would collapse. But the former champ refused to fall.  Diamond was slowing, her gas tank almost depleted, and stopped her attack as hands gripped the back of her head. She cursed herself for the waste of energy as the Muay Thai plum jerked her head and face down into the bread and butter of the discipline: knee strikes. The knee Hera slammed into Diamond’s face was terrible but it was the only strike she could manage at full power.  The muscles of her abdomen refused to cooperate after the Rich girl’s punches had abused them so badly. Still, Hera managed to raise the hard bones of her knees up and into Diamond’s head and torso several times. Diamond went limp in the clinch. Hera released the girl, expecting her to ragdoll to the mat, her consciousness a thing of the past. Instead, Diamond staggered back to the center of the cage. Her vision was blurry and her legs weak as the accumulation of damage and fatigue settled on the champion. The knee strikes had hurt and from her split lip came a tide of blood. She shook her head, trying to rid it of dizziness and grinned, the purple mouthpiece was dark with blood but the word ‘princess’ was still legible as she motioned Hera forward.  Hera sighed, heaved in a deep breath, and lumbered forward like an overweight giant on chicken legs to meet Diamond in the center once more.  Hera poked a jab forward into Diamond’s shoulder and followed it with a right hook. The attack was parried by Diamond’s lead hand and the boxer’s right crossed her body, connecting angrily into Hera’s forehead. The cut at her hairline spilled fresh incarnadine liquid down into her eye, obstructing her vision. She wiped at it and caught an invisible uppercut that pushed her back a step, hands coming up and intercepting Diamond’s labored follow-up punch. Diamond was slow to retrieve her appendages after each strike now and Hera brought a knee up to bang off of Diamond’s sternum, forcing her lungs to expel the air within. She gasped and hopped back sloppily, trying to force air into her screaming lungs. She couldn’t draw a full breath and backed away while pumping her lungs violently, trying to get the air flowing into them. Chasing the Rich girl, Hera threw a slow, powerful combination of strikes. The right hook missed, the left caught Diamond’s broken orbital and slapped her head to the side, a spray of blood wetting Hera’s glove. A leg kick ended the combination that the injured Diamond didn’t see coming and the boxer’s lead leg gave out. Only because she had been retreating was she able to stay upright on her rear, planted leg. Farnese locked Diamond’s head in another Thai clinch but her legs were slow to respond to the calls for knees. Hera released the hold as Diamond slammed fist after fist into the big woman’s body.  Diamond gasped like an asthmatic and the edges of her vision were darkening from the lack of fresh oxygen. Her body begged for air but her spasming diaphragm refused to cooperate. She could only manage tiny, burning breaths and each big action she made strangled her even worse. She struck out with a flicker jab, a weak, whip-like strike that was hard to see but did little damage, that landed squarely into Hera’s broken nose, backing her up and buying Diamond a little time. A little was all she needed as her diaphragm finally opened up and allowed rich, cool air to extinguish the fire in her aching lungs. She looked up to the clock. Thirty seconds left. Where had the time gone? She couldn’t be sure. The round was close and Diamond didn’t want to leave it up to the judges. Neither did Hera. It was kill or be killed. Diamond waited for Hera to collect herself and motioned to the clock. Hera glimpsed it quickly and raised one eyebrow at Diamond, questioning her about the motion. Diamond, heaving in cool air, recharging her body for what was to come, pointed at the mat in the center of the octagon with her right hand three times with heavy, deliberate intention. Hera instantly understood and nodded her approval. This was what fighting was about. The contest would be decided by who wanted it more. One more clash of wills was all either fighter had left but it would be the final exchange.  Diamond met the Queen of the Gods in the center of the octagon and bit down into her mouth guard as the pair began slinging death at one another. Toe to toe, rolling and throwing heavy shots with the momentum of their bodies, Diamond and Hera clashed like raging thunderheads. All of the pain, all of the adversity, all of their careers came down to this moment.  Fists flew wildly from both fighters as they rolled and struck like anacondas fighting to the death. Blows landed on each side and Diamond lost sense of pain and balance as she released everything remaining in her gas tank. She could feel blood spilling from her split lip, her shredded cheek, and jerked as incredibly powerful blows threatened to remove her from consciousness. She also heard her own fists slapping wetly into slick, damp meat. Blood decorated her as her fists impacted, one after another, into Farnese Hera.  Somewhere far away wood blocks clapped and Diamond clamped her teeth as hard as she could into the rubber of her mouth guard. Hera’s fist met her forehead, her cheek, her chin. The world spun but still she swung the powerful hooking punches like a swirling tornado, committed to ending this writhing dance of death on top, as champion. Diamond’s fists ached from the repeated landings but on they swung. She didn’t know where they landed but they were landing hard. Likewise, Hera’s fists pounded into the sides of Diamond’s head. At any moment one of them would fall. One of them had to fall. It couldn’t go to decision again. Daddy might have… The bell rang and the ref pushed between the fighters. Neither wanted to fall and neither had. They could barely stand, their eyes chasing imaginary butterflies and stars as they steadied themselves on weak, buckling knees.  Diamond felt loopy but smiled and held her hand out. Hera shook her head and half-stepped dizzily to meet the extended hand.  Once more they hugged in the center of the octagon. The fight was over. All the bad blood lay spilled on the mat in a gruesome scene of carnage and all that was left was immense respect. Diamond felt like crying and felt hot tears running down her cheek where Hera was pressing.  “If I lose, you’re the true champ, Diamond. If I win, you are still a champion. Nothing but love,” the Queen of the Gods confided. “Same here, Hera. Last time was a robbery. Daddy paid off the judges but I didn’t know. I’m sorry,” Diamond admitted, arms squeezing Hera close. “I won’t say a word. I’d rather retire than see you kicked out of the sport. It’s all good.” Hera patted the back of Diamond’s head and broke the embrace, taking Diamond’s hand and lifting it with her own high above their heads and screaming back at the roaring crowd. Diamond joined her, sharing the splendor and adulation of the entire Canterlot Sporting Arena with her rival. They parted, Queens of the octagon, and returned to their corners. Diamond hugged Flicker Jab. “Did I win, Flick?” she asked. “Best fight I’ve ever seen, Diamond. I don’t know how to call it. I’m proud of you however it turns out,” the old man said, patting his fighter on the back. “You’re tough as nails, kid. Hard as diamond.”