Red Oni, Blue Oni

January, the Year Everything Happened

“Hey Simone, are you here to talk shit or are you here to spar?” Natalie Turner asked, standing in what had formerly been a very focused fighting stance. Her blue mouthguard, still shiny with spittle, now clutched in the palm of her hand as she narrowed her brown eyes at her partner.

“Both, ideally.” Simone Williams grinned. There was no tension in her 5'10 frame, just brown eyes full of mischief and laughter creasing her face. She shrugged, baggy tee obscuring the athletic body beneath, palms of her red MMA gloves up towards the ceiling of the gym.

“Come on. I've got class in an hour and we still gotta catch the bus back to campus.” Natalie complained. “Waste your own time; some of us are trying to go pro.” She slid her mouthguard back in and waved on the other college freshman: Nat was done talking even if her friend wasn't.

“Actually... fuck.” The dark complexioned Black woman glanced past Nat and at the digital clock on the wall of the gym. “Lowkey, I think I'm missing Chem lecture right now.” Simone laughed. “But like I-” Her words caught in her throat as she ducked away from Natalie’s unannounced high kick. The shock of the missed attack stirred her back into action and she slid her mouthguard in as well. “Gahdamn, Nat.” She finally assented, sliding into her own stance.

Nat nodded at her childhood friend. Now it was her turn to smile. Simone played too much, but once she focused on fighting she could more than keep up with her. Natalie led their dance, the 19-year old college student keeping her shorter friend at bay with long, straight punches and harassing her with kicks to her legs thrown from too far away for Simone to retaliate.

Each time the shorter, stockier Simone pressed the issue and tried to close the gap between them, her friend had a blue glove or instep guard ready for her, a chiding reminder to keep her distance. Friendly admonishment. Natalie observed the frustration curdling Simone's bouncy, lackadaisical demeanor. Her footwork, accuracy, and reach presented a persistent obstacle to the back and forth firefight Simone wanted. The Biochem major's stance tightened and her black and red braids stopped bouncing as she hunkered down and approached. Their traffic was two way, but it was clear who was enjoying this more.

“Maybe you should have gone to Chem class.” Natalie allowed herself a joke as she connected with a tight combo and earned a brief wince from her friend. None of their strikes were thrown at full strength; their goal to challenge and sharpen rather than maim each other. But the 6’0” college freshman couldn't deny a sense of satisfaction at getting one up on her longtime friend.

She threw again, but the punch felt wrong immediately. She recognized the parry a moment before Simone's bright red glove collided with her face. At that range, and coming forward into it, even a pulled punch stung. Her overenthusiastic partner pulled her into a clinch before she could recover and Nat tugged against the hands clasped behind her head. Natalie cursed to herself; given enough time, Simone read everyone's patterns. Her bawdy friend was intuitive if nothing else. Natalie steadied her breath and her thoughts and prepared to solve this problem.

“Come to mama!” Simone managed despite her mouthguard. She threw soft knees, content to tap her partner while taking advantage of the situation. Natalie appreciated her restraint, especially since the position mushed her face-first against Simone's soft, sweaty bust.

“Don't be shy, get in there. Spend some time with the girls.” Simone crowed, dispelling any idea that the position was as awkward for her as it was for Natalie. Her partner was rowdy, playful, and lewd in equal measures.

Natalie had trained with this firestarter long enough to expect—and defend—Simone trying to sweep her off her feet and deposit her onto her ass there on the mats. Natalie slipped away but ate a check hook on her way out of the entanglement. Nat backed away into her stance and felt her athletic, brawny partner tap her shin on Natalie’s jaw with a high kick. Half strength, but thrown with the playful ease of someone confident they could do it again when it mattered. Natalie circled away with an expression that said “you play too much.”

They tapped gloves again, Nat’s blue gloves meeting Simone’s red in a recommitment to keeping things friendly between them. Nat prepared to keep her hard charging—and newly emboldened— sparring partner at bay. Simone's bright eyes and mischievous smile promised more chaos.


The bus ride back to campus was quiet until a tap on her shoulder roused Natalie from the R&B flowing in her earbuds. She caught Simone smiling at her again, this time behind glasses and newly red irises.

“Ok, no, wait.” Natalie interrupted, pointing at her own eyes while staring at her friend. “Are the color contacts cosmetic? Are the glasses real? What's going on, Simone?”

Simone's bulky varsity jacket rustled as she pulled a few braids behind her ear. Natalie noticed that everything about her friend was brightly colored: her hair, her eyes, and the low cut crop top under her jacket. No mater the setting, Simone wanted attention. That suit Natalie fine, who'd never wanted the spotlight she sometimes found herself thrust into.

Simone blinked, hard, and then stared at her with a gaze that emphasized those same eyes. “That's the fun part. Who knows? The glasses make me look smart, and the red contacts are cool and edgy and they make me feel like an anime protagonist. I'm a mahou shoujo, Nat.”

“A what?” She blinked.

“Like... a magical girl.” Simone said, slightly deflated by Natalie's uncomprehending. “It’s an anime thing.”

“Anime? Girl, you're a whole ass weeb. You need to let that cartoon shit go and get a real hobby.”

“Listen here 'Love and Basketball.' I know all you watch is sitcoms and rom-coms and reality TV, but I'm trying to watch some shit I can't actually do in real life. If I wanna get my heart broken by a fuck nigga there are thousands on campus I can choose from.”

“You can't tell me you don't like Insecure and Abbott Elementary.” Natalie protested, eyes wide.

“Listen, I agree with Isa Rae: 'I'm rooting for everybody Black,' but c'mon Nat: I need some excitement.”

“Simone the last thing you need is more excitement. I saw you at Anthony's lil kickback kissing on that dude and his girlfriend.”

Now it was Simone's turn to gaze ahead in self conscious shock. Nat watched the gears turn in her friend's head, curious what story or justification her rowdy friend would roll out this time.

“Hey, if they're willing to share, I'm willing to be a team player.” Simone cackled. She playfully patted her own chest, as if Natalie needed a reminder of Simone's lewd intent or very generous curves. “I'm fine being someone's hot 'unicorn.' Teamwork makes the dream work, Nat.”

Natalie shook her head. Simone's appetite for love and sex had long since stopped being surprising. “If you say so. I'm cool on the 'one night stand' vibe. Miss me with that shit. I'm more of a 'one love' kinda girl.” Natalie said, adjusting her baggy T-shirt. Her clothing didn't quite obscure her muscles or her curves but didn't put them on full display either.

“You're more of a no love, slow love kinda girl. That courtship shit is played out.” Simone explained between bites of something she'd pulled out of her bag. “We'll never be 19 again. Have fun, make mistakes, nahmean?”

The pair of Black freshmen traded barbs and jokes until they both dissolved into laughter and friendly shoves there on the city bus. Natalie laughed hard enough to forget what she had meant to say in the first place: something about Mixed Martial Arts and her retired professional fighter of a mother. In any event, this was her stop, on the liberal arts side of the California University at Los Angeles campus. Nat shouldered her backpack, adjusted her T-shirt and jeans, and prepared to sit through a CU@LA freshman English class.

From kickboxing class to freshman requisites with no break in between. Natalie wondered if this was just what being a student athlete meant.

#Writing #FirstDraft #Series #SFW #BeatPreyLove #BPL #Fiction #Action #Fight #MartialArts

Find shorter thoughts at https://c.im/@NaClKnight