Hard As Diamond

Chapters

In this corner...
Round One
Round Two
Counter
Round Three
Round Four
Round Five
The Decision
Epilogue

In this corner...

Diamond Tiara’s hands were already wrapped and taped in the familiar pattern. Her calloused knuckles would still ache after the fight but that thought was fleeting and devoid of concern for her, it was something you got used to after years of hitting the bags, pads, and sparring partners during training. It wasn’t her hands that troubled her now but what they held: the strawweight division championship belt.

The face of the black leather belt was gold plated and carefully adorned with inscriptions and decorative patterns surrounding the bright face. Befitting the award of a skilled mixed martial artist, the belt gleamed beneath the locker room lights of the Canterlot Sporting Arena. Surrounding the large font CHAMPION below the center plate were a series of smaller plaques containing the names of all the previous title holders back to the dawn of the Canterlot Fighting Championship. A short list of only six others, but one of significance to the martial artists pushing to legitimize the sport from the naysayers who deemed it a bloodthirsty, gladiatorial pit of base, ignorant people for low brow worshippers of violence.

Her name was the most recent addition but it haunted her instead of bringing satisfaction. Did her name belong alongside the others? Had she earned that right? Or was she demeaning the sport she loved?

The questions burned inside her mind like drops of acid, slowly eating deeper at her conscience, sizzling away at the accomplishments of the last five years she had spent in the CFC. As she reflected upon her victories, they all seemed false. How long, she wondered, had she been living a lie? She could not tell and the victories frayed in her mind, melting to the vitriolic questions.

She was not a champion; she was a fraud.

Her image flashed in the polished gold of the title belt and she felt tears welling from the endless spring of sorrow her father had opened within her. She stared into the distorted reflection of her own azure eyes and grimaced. Years of dedication, diligence, and hard, hard work… were they all for naught?

The challenger’s music echoed into the small locker room from the entrance tunnel outside. Farnese Hera, the former champion, was making her walk to the cage. Diamond sighed, not wanting to face the woman from which she had taken the belt.

“You look awful, Diamond. Are you sick? We can put this thing off if you aren’t well,” said Flicker Jab. The middle aged man kneeled before Diamond and took her hands, checking the tape by touch while looking deep into the regretful icy pools of her eyes. She had known him for the last 15 years. Ever since she had begged her father to let her take MMA lessons. She had bloomed under Flicker Jab’s tutelage and he had been with her the whole time. It pained her to look at him now.

“I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

“Diamond… you’re not in the right frame of mind. There’s no shame in taking another few weeks…” Flicker reasoned, his steel gray eyes searched Diamond worryingly.

Another man in his mid thirties moved to observe the interaction of the coach and his pupil. The salt and pepper haired man wore an olive green jacket, identifying him as one of the commissioners of the Canterlot Athletics Commission. He was silent but observant like a gargoyle statue.

“It won’t matter.” Diamond looked away, holding the belt out to the Canterlot Commissioner who watched intently for rule violations or infractions. The commissioner took the belt, acting as intermediate for the bearer of the belt.

Dempsey Roll, Diamond’s friend and training partner, took a pair of open finger gloves resting on the bench beside her and handed them to Flicker Jab. “Come on, Ti. Don’t let the rumors psych you out. We believe in you.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t, Demp,” Diamond sighed and let her head fall.

The older man took the gloves and shook his head lightly as he helped Diamond don the 4 ounce gloves that served to protect the bones in her hand more than her opponent’s body.

“Where’s your heart? You’re going to let Hera’s mind games beat you before the fight even starts?” Flicker moved aside as the commissioner checked the gloves, feeling for tampering. The commissioner nodded his approval and Flicker Jab wrapped blue tape around the wrists of the gloves to which the commissioner signed his initials with a black sharpie to prove he had inspected them. The acrid odor lingered and filled Diamond’s nostrils. “This isn’t like you, Diamond. What’s going on upstairs?”

Diamond stood and pumped a fist into the palm of the other hand, dismissing the question obstinately, before squeezing her hands rhythmically back and forth, checking the fit of the gloves. Eyes refusing to meet her trainer’s, she watched the floor, head down, as her entrance music began. Her lavender hair was cornrowed tightly over her head and she briefly felt for loose strands that might get in the way before stepping out of the locker room and into the tunnel. Flicker was right, her heart wasn’t in the fight. How could it be?

Her music flowed into the tunnel, swallowing her like a flood as she walked towards the entrance to the arena. A fast-paced song by the Suicidal Foals, her favorite band, that she felt echoed her rebellious spirit blared through the speakers of the arena and bounced off the walls of the tunnel. Normally, she would be inspired, but this time it just reminded her of how her father controlled her. Even when she proved him wrong, he found a way to ruin her accomplishments.

She could feel her trainer’s hard grip on her shoulder and a small troupe of commissioners and security flanked her on all sides but the front as the flickering lights from the arena floor came closer and closer.

The crowd, large for a Canterlot regional fight, instantly reacted as she broke into the arena. A mixture of cheers and boos assaulted her sensitive ears even over the raucous music of the Foals. It was nearly impossible to not see the unhappy faces, the downturned thumbs, and even the expletives hurled her way despite there being several cheering, clapping, and reaching for a fist bump. She wasn’t lying to just herself and her trainer: she was lying to her fans.

She bounced from foot to foot, testing the comfort of the black athletic clothes squeezing against her hips, legs, and chest. The tank top matched the black of the shorts except the latter bore her name in gold, befitting the current champion. They were slick against her body, fitted, and contoured comfortably without riding or chafing.

Continuing to hop, Diamond made her way toward the octagonal cage. She cast glacial eyes into the center where Farnese Hera stood, a scowl on her lips and anger flashing like warning lights. Her eyes were lasers burning into Diamond’s chest, frying her beating heart.

Hera was a blood hungry lioness, stalking the cage furiously. Her body language was different from their first match. Hera had been the champion and sought to defend what was hers while eagerly awaiting the challenge that Diamond Tiara brought. Her eyes were hungry but full of respect for Diamond.

Now they were filled to the brim with red hate and vengeance. They promised pain and punishment. The octagon was 30 feet across and Hera was going to make that space feel much smaller.

Diamond recalled the match in a moment; it had been five rounds for a total of 25 minutes, a typical championship match, and she had fought her best. Diamond had landed a few good combinations throughout the fight, had even backed Hera up to the cage wall once, landing some good shots in the clinch. They had traded blows and both wore the strikes of the other as welts, bruises, or blood. Diamond had won round two, outstriking Hera in that round and cutting her peach skin just above one eye. The other four rounds, however, she could not reconcile with the judges’ decision. She had spent much of the 1st and 3rd on her back, struggling not to get caught in Hera’s impressive submissions, and the 4th and 5th rounds had been one-sided lessons in Muay Thai. Diamond’s left eyebrow bore a permanent scar from a particularly devastating head kick.

“Open your hands,” a man in a striped shirt and black pants stated but Diamond didn’t catch the words, looking over her shoulder to the sky box her father was, no doubt, observing from disdainfully.

“Diamond! Your hands!” the referee repeated, more forcefully, bringing her back to the moment. Diamond opened her hands and the ref inspected her nails for length. Flicker Jab had cut them in the back and filed them down so that inadvertent eye pokes didn’t blind her opponent. The ref flipped her hands palm down and back up, checking for loose wrappings, signatures on the blue tape, and feeling the pad across the knuckles for foreign objects such as rings or removed padding before letting go and stepping back.

“Arms out,” the ref called and Diamond followed his instruction, pointing her arms straight out and making a ‘T’ shape. He quickly patted down the sides of her clothing and soft pink skin for objects or grease which were against the rules of MMA. When he reached her bare feet, she felt him check her toenails before standing back up. “Mouthpiece.”

Flicker Jab held the guard for Diamond’s teeth up and she opened her mouth for him to push into place. She could feel the grooves of her teeth slide into their respective imprints within the guard and bit down, reinforcing the piece into place. The ref nodded, stepped away, and motioned to the open cage door.

The crowd continued their raucous banter and Diamond attempted to tune them out. She held her arms out to her trainer, wrapping him in a hug. She was letting him down. She was going to lose because she didn’t deserve to test herself against the best. For over a decade he had given her his trust and knowledge. He had led her from a path of bitterness and spite, showing her an outlet for those angry feelings deep inside. Flicker Jab had treated her with respect for who she was as a person, not because of her family’s wealth.

“You can do this, Diamond. You’re the best I’ve ever seen. Don’t let your head get in the way of your talent,” Flicker whispered into her ear.

Diamond wished she could agree.

Diamond released the embrace silently and stepped up the stairs to the octagon while Flicker Jab, Dempsey Roll, and a cutman provided by the arena went to the blue corner outside of the cage fence. Diamond felt the rubber of the mat grip the soles of her feet as she stepped through the door and into the octagon. She could feel the fire from Hera’s eyes scorching her even without looking at her opponent. She felt small beneath the gaze, worthless.

Diamond hopped back and forth on her toes, keeping her muscles warm and limber, while she waited for the announcer. The octagon held several commission members, one waving her to her corner, standing around to oversee the bout. At the moment, they were ensuring that the combatants did not start prematurely. Also in the ring was the CFC’s announcer, Spruce Buffer. He was wearing what appeared to be a suit made from gaudy, bright carpet, Diamond noticed. Nothing new, he always wore outlandish clothes; it was his gimmick.

A commissioner guided Diamond to her corner, meeting Flicker Jab and Dempsey Roll from her side of the cage. She hadn’t met Hera’s withering stare directly yet and dreaded to see it.

“Diamond,” Flicker said but Diamond was lost in her thoughts, eyes cast up to the glass box. She wondered why her father treated her so poorly, though, deep down, she knew the answer.

She had entered his office as a child once when she had fooled the nanny who watched her morning, noon, and night. A sweet smile only a young girl can grow splayed across her cheeks as she silently shut the big, heavy door of the office. It smelled warm and sticky inside, like tobacco, and she watched Filthy Rich in his luxurious leather chair studded with real gold buttons as he poured himself over a multitude of papers. He paid no attention to her, flipping from page to page of charts, graphs, and reports that she didn’t understand. She vaguely remembered thinking he must be coloring because many of the designs were in a variety of colors.

Silently she watched, stealthily stepping closer. Filthy never looked up and before long Diamond had tiptoed to one of the other two similar chairs across from her father. She peeked from behind the furniture and grinned as Filthy wrote in a ledger. She rarely was afforded time with him and she loved him dearly. Her tiny heart beat rapidly in those occasions that he spoke to her or tussled her hair. He was always so busy… she didn’t quite understand it but it was what she was accustomed to.

She quickly hopped up into one of the chairs and Filthy started, eyes wide in surprise. “Diamond? What are you doing here? Where’s Nanny Fae?”

“I wanted to see you, Daddy. I missed you so much!” Tiny cheeks lifted from the beaming smile on her lips. Her eyes hungrily took in the sight of her father.

“Yes, well… I am very busy, Diamond.” He pressed a button on his desk and a voice answered shortly.

“Yes, sir.” It was his secretary.

“Can you find Nanny Fae? Tell her I pay her to keep Diamond in her lessons or otherwise entertained while I conduct business. If she cannot manage to watch one child, then I do not need her under my employ.” Filthy looked harshly at Diamond and she grimaced. She only wanted to see him.

“I… I want to conduct business too, Daddy. When I grow up, I want to be a great businessman like you!” she blurted out, hoping to impress him. He only laughed to himself.

“A woman? Doing business? Oh, Diamond, you have much to learn.” He sat his ornate pen down and came around to pick her up, escorting her to the door as Nanny Fae suddenly appeared with a scowl from the dressing down she had received from the secretary and was certain to get again from Filthy. “Little girls and women should be seen and not heard, Diamond. Those are lessons you should learn now or you’ll never get a husband to take care of you when you grow up.”

She hadn’t understood what he meant but she gleaned that business wasn’t something he thought she would ever understand.

“Diamond!” Flicker Jab reiterated, a little louder than before, snapping Diamond Tiara from her memories. He looked serious and she wondered how long he had been calling her. Dempsey was there as well, separated from her by the interlocking wire fence of the cage.

“Yeah?”

“Hera starts slow, you know that, but, this time, she’s going to come out blazing. She wants to prove that you didn’t win last match and she’ll be coming hard for you.” Flicker looked over Diamond’s shoulder at Hera and it prompted Diamond to sneak a glance. Hera was hopping from one foot to the other, grinding her fist into the palm of the other hand. God, she looked angry. Diamond quickly refocused on Flicker. “You’ve done a lot of work on countering and she’s not going to think clearly. When she strikes it will be with everything she has. Make her miss, let her burn some energy, and then work those counters. She won’t expect them from you.”

Diamond nodded softly. “Yes, sir.” The mouthpiece felt strange in her mouth, as strange as the gloves on her hands. She felt as if she didn’t belong here. She was just a girl, as her father often said. She couldn’t see him in the tinted windows of the box…

“Diamond. What’s wrong with you? That belt is yours. You earned it! Isn’t this what we’ve trained for? To be the best? To show the world you aren’t just a spoiled little rich girl?” Flicker was verging on yelling now and the words stung Diamond.

“But…,” she started and Spruce Buffer began his announcements. Diamond’s voice was buried under the raspy, thick timbre of the announcer but she could tell Flicker understood what she had said.

“I didn’t earn it.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, fight fans from across Canterlot, this is the main event of the evening!” the crowd broke into a loud cheer as Spruce whipped their excitement to new heights as easily as a baker whipped frosting.

Diamond failed to look Flicker in the eye and turned her back on him despite his calls for her. She fell into her bouncing rhythm and waited for her turn to be announced. Hera’s eyes never blinked, never moved from Diamond. A chill ran through her spine and she breathed hard, panic filling her like an overflowing teacup.

Farnese Hera wore gold Muay Thai trunks, short and loose with a split up each side so that kicks were not hindered by the limitations of the clothing. Her name, like Diamond’s, was similarly stitched up the side. She wore a gold tank top that covered her stomach and chest, tightly contouring to the curves of her body. Her hair was shaved on both sides, revealing the orange of her skin, and a short mohawk of bloody crimson hair stood in spikes across the top of her head where longer, more beautiful hair used to flow. She had not taken losing her belt well ...and Diamond couldn’t blame her.

“Sanctioned by the Canterlot Athletics Commission.” Spruce began his introductions. “Our judges at ringside are Fidget, Ramshackle Riot, and Simmer Sun. When the action begins, our referee in charge of the octagon is Stone Souffle. This bout is sponsored by Rich Industries Brown Ale.” Diamond winced at one of her father’s products sponsoring her fight. Even if Rich industries sponsored almost every event in Canterlot, the crowd would easily draw conclusions about the legitimacy of her skill and the renderings of the judges. Of course, they had a right to after her last bout.

“And now! The moment CFC fans have been waiting for! From the Canterlot Sporting Arena in the heart of Canterlot, Equestria! It’s TIME!!!!” The crowd roared, their cheers and noise nearly shaking the arena. “Five rounds for the undisputed CFC Strawweight Championship!

“Introducing first!” Spruce continued and gestured quickly to Farnese. “Fighting out of the red corner, a mixed martial artist holding a record of 22 wins, 2 losses, standing 5 foot 5 inches and weighing in at 115 pounds… Fighting out of Cloudsdale. Presenting the former CFC Strawweight champion and number one ranked Strawweight, the challenger, Farnese ‘Queen of the Gods’ Hera!”

The crowd exploded, a frenzy of ear-shattering noise fell upon the octagon like a tsunami wave. Hera raised her arms and rotated a small circle before pointing at Diamond and then viciously stabbing her fist towards the floor. It was clear, she was going to render Diamond unconscious in as violent and dominant a win as she could propose.

“And now, introducing the champion! Fighting! Out of the blue corner, a mixed martial artist holding a professional record of 14 wins, no losses. She stands 5 foot 4 inches, weighing in at 115 pounds. Fighting out of Canterlot, presenting the reigning, defending, undisputed CFC Strawweight Champion, ‘Hard as’ Diamond Tiara!”

For as much love as the patrons of the sport praised Hera, they despised Diamond. While a respectable wave of applause came at her name, it was beaten down and crushed by the boos of the majority of the crowd. Many had turned on her, calling her victories into questions after the robbery that exemplified her title. It stung deep down. She had never wanted to achieve the height of her sport in a highly contestable fashion and many of her former fans suspected the worst. Still, she raised one arm and attempted to look the part of a champion. It felt weak and improvised.

Hera moved towards the center of the octagon, passing the lines indicating center control and waited on her side of the referee, Stone Souffle, who stood in the dead center of the mat. She pivoted from toe to toe, eyes locked like a hyena’s jaws on Diamond as she met her in the center. Spruce Buffer reached the microphone around Stone Souffle’s side and held it just below his mouth.

“Ladies,” the ref began, “we went over the rules in the back. Protect yourself at all times, obey my commands at all times. I want you to fight hard but fight clean.”

Diamond couldn’t meet Hera’s dismembering stare for long and found herself looking at Stone. He was gray with a shock of hard, black hair. He was very strict in his refereeing but also very fair. He had reffed several of Diamond’s fights. “If you want to touch gloves, do so at this time.”

Reaching her gloves out for Hera to bump as a show of respect, Diamond found no answer. Hera just shook her head and said, “Daddy won’t buy you a win this time, Tiara. I’m leaving you unconscious in the center of the cage.”

Diamond had no answer and they both stepped back to their respective corners. The microphone had not picked up Hera’s words at that distance and she was grateful for that but she knew by the crowd’s reaction to her that they had already concluded how she had been awarded the title.

“Diamond. Prove them wrong. Show them why you are the champ,” said Flicker Jab. He had seen the subtle defeats in Diamond’s body language, she knew. He’d known her for a long time and was probably the closest man in her life. It was impossible to hide her emotions from him for long. A good coach, he was trying to inspire her.

Diamond fell into her orthodox, right handed, posture: knees bent, one foot ahead of the other with the toes facing forward. Her hands came up, fingers relaxed instead of clenched, one back just under her right eye and the other, her left, lead, hand extended about a foot in front of her face and drooping a little lower than the right.

Across the cage, the Queen of the Gods assumed the typical Muay Thai stance. Orthodox as well, her left leg was her lead leg and only the toes touched the mat, the ball of that foot about two inches higher. Her back leg was planted in order to push off of it and rain powerful kicks, elbows, or punches. Elbows somewhat out to the sides, her forearms came up about two inches over her eyes, one back and touching her eyebrow while the other mimicked Diamond’s lead hand. The Muay Thai stance was more squared, shoulders almost even and facing Diamond.

Stone Souffle, the ref, looked from Diamond to Hera. “Are you ready?” he asked Hera who nodded quickly, matter-of-factly, and then repeated the question to Diamond who bobbed her head lightly in acknowledgement. “Round one. Fight!”

Author's Note

Thanks for reading chapter 1!
This is a bit of a departure from my normal thing but it’s a story I’ve wanted to tell for a while. I’ve struggled to come up with a DT story but, about a year ago, I had an idea. The MMA base is just the vehicle to deliver the story but I hope it is enjoyed as well.

Round One

Stone Soufflé dropped his hand quickly towards the mat, signaling the beginning of the fight. Hera surged forward like a lightning bolt, eliminating the gap between herself and Diamond in a bullish rush. She had gauged no distance, tested no waters, and hadn’t begun to figure out Diamond’s plan of attack. Instead, she brought the fight to her recklessly but viciously. As she closed distance, Hera pivoted onto her lead leg during a step and snapped a head kick so quickly and fluidly that it was nearly imperceptible.

Diamond barely got her left arm up in time to block the kick. It cracked against the skin of her elbow and forearm like a whip and stung like a dozen hornets. The nerves along the ulna inside her forearm went silent from the absorption of the blow and it instantly felt dead. Her arm ricocheted off of her skull, knocking Diamond to the side, causing her to stumble to catch her balance. You never really blocked a head kick and Diamond was thankful her instincts had brought her arm up or else the fight would have ended with that strike. Even if Diamond had toughed out several wins in her career, she was far from immortal and a powerful, cobra-like strike from such a disciplined and fully energized practitioner like the Queen of the Gods would have been disastrous.

“Diamond! Get out of there! Move!” Flicker Jab cried as Hera brought a ferocious left body hook around as Diamond shifted to get her feet underneath her. The shot landed hard into Diamond’s right ribs, just above her liver. Hera was strong and the gloved fist clapped loudly. Pain radiated from the shot but that was nothing new for Diamond. She gritted her teeth into the mouthguard and pushed passed it.

Diamond had heard Flicker but knew she needed to move even without his help. She couldn’t stand toe to toe with Hera, fueled by rage, in the first round. The shots Diamond had absorbed were full force, killing blows. The Queen of the Gods was trying to smite Diamond for her insolence. Diamond’s eyes met Hera’s and she nearly froze. Only the repeated movements of diligent practice ushered her to duck the wide, right hook. It skimmed the air above her head, tearing the air audibly, and Diamond hopped back before Hera’s lead leg came up sharply, knee intending to collide with the ducking Diamond’s chin.

No, Diamond knew she needed to be mobile, bait Hera into throwing those big, explosive strikes and either counter them or make them miss. Putting that much energy into her strikes would tire Hera quickly. Even if Diamond felt like a child battling an adult, she didn’t want to get hurt too badly. She would lose, but she wouldn’t become Farnese Hera’s punching bag. Filthy Rich would mock her if she did and she didn’t want to see him smirking over her, telling her ‘I told you so’.

Feet moving gracefully, Diamond rotated back and around to her right, Hera’s left side. Rolling away from her powerful right leg and hand would minimize the damage if she got caught. Instead, she would force the rampaging Queen to chase her.

“Keep distance! Don’t let her get in on you and stay out of the clinch or she’ll knee you out!” Diamond could barely hear her coach as the crowd cheered, enveloping nearly all sound in response to Hera’s ferocious attack. She spun around Hera and took the center of the octagon, hopping on her feet, ready to move. Hera turned and threw out a long, straight jab with her lead hand. She wasn’t used to the distance yet and the strike stopped a couple inches short of the mark: Diamond’s face.

Hera stepped forward quickly, pumping another jab that Diamond slipped with easy head movement. Sudden pressure on the back of Diamond’s head told her the missed punch had transitioned into a clinch attempt and Diamond once again ducked and rolled to her right to avoid the other grasping hand of her opponent. Muay Thai styles thrived in a standing grapple with both hands locked around the head of an opponent, called a plum, that pulled the head down where venomous knees could make quick work of the consciousness of the victim.

Diamond was having no part of that and retaliated with a hard swing of her hips, launching her back leg like a baseball bat around to smack into the outside meaty calf of Hera’s lead leg. She showed no sign that the leg kick had done any damage and Diamond was forced to sway her head back to narrowly avoid another quick left jab.

Doing her best to imitate a matador, Diamond slipped a series of punches. The bullet train head kick snapped out again but Diamond was able to move in the same direction, lessening the impact on her high guard. The pink flesh of her forearm brightened to a deep red from the impact and was beginning to tingle as the nerves recovered from the trauma they had taken.

“Keep moving, Diamond! She’s all openings, let your hands go or she’ll take the round with aggression. Just touch and go! Touch and go!” Flick yelled from the corner. His words were barely audible over the crowd but the doubting voices in Diamond’s head were a cacophony of noise, louder than the most raucous of crowds.

I can’t beat her… She’s a legend and …

“You’re just a girl, Diamond,” Filthy Rich said slowly, as if Diamond couldn’t comprehend what he meant. “Girls can’t be fighters. Where did such a stupid idea enter your head?”

Diamond frowned and let the poster for a karate dojo Silver Spoon was going to attend drop to her waist. She knew that would be his answer. Though she hadn’t officially become a teen yet, Diamond felt some rebellious energy building within her towards Filthy. Neglect and emotional seclusion from her parents filled the bowl of teenage angst well before the natural hormones could. “Daddy, Silver Spoon is taking karate lessons and it’s not like I want to fight. Shouldn’t I know how to protect myself just in ca…”

“In case what, Diamond?” Filthy cut her off, shaking his head angrily at being talked back to. “Nobody would dare lay a finger on my daughter. Isn’t there a … I don’t know, ballet class or something you’re more interested in taking? Something more fitting for a girl?”

“I just want to do something with my friend, Daddy. And I’ve already taken ballet. Four years of it.” It troubled Diamond how little her father knew about her. He paid for the classes but Nanny Marie, Nanny Fae’s successor, had taken her to them three days a week for four years. He had missed every recital.

“Piano lessons, then!” Filthy roared. “ If Silver Spoon’s father wants to ruin his daughter’s chances of finding a wealthy husband, that’s his business but you will not join her.”

Stunned, Diamond must have made a weird expression because Filthy suddenly looked very harshly at her. It took a moment but she rebutted him resiliently, “Daddy, I’m 12! I don’t even like boys!”

One thin hand reached up to stroke back Filthy’s thick hair and he let out a frustrated sigh. “It’s never too early to look towards your future, Diamond.” He turned his back on her, dismissing her as usual. Her presence always seemed to be a burden for him. Why? All of the other children she knew were poor but had loving parents. Wealth was great but she would trade away her fancy dresses to be hugged by her father. She began to cry, the tears rolling down her cheeks like cumulus clouds in the sky. She couldn’t hold back the sobs that racked her small body and she wiped at her eyes with both hands.

Filthy made an unhappy grunt but Diamond could, through a veil of tears, see the discomfort in his features. He didn’t mean to upset her and didn’t know how to fix it. He awkwardly walked to her and patted her head lightly, the closest thing to a hug he had ever given her. “Okay, okay. Enough of that. No karate but you go find any other, appropriate, class you want and I’ll have Nanny Marie enroll you.”

Diamond’s heart ached but not with sorrow. She shook her head angrily as a red hot cinder grew within her. All her father knew how to do was throw money at a problem. Here, his only daughter was upset because of his inability to show her even the smallest affection and he tried to buy her off. Just like all of those business partners he had. She didn’t want his money! She wanted him to see her for who she was, what she was: his daughter. She wanted him to love her! Smacking his hand from her head, Diamond ran from his office; she couldn’t look at him anymore.

In the following days, she concocted a way to get back at him. She wouldn’t take karate. After searching flyers and posters advertising the different lessons she could take, she found one that would really stick it to her dad. She wouldn’t take karate with Silver, she’d take mixed martial arts. He’d never know. He didn’t care enough about her to know what she did as long as she wasn’t distracting him. He’d blindly pay for harp, gymnastics, or horse riding, she decided, but he’d really be funding something he would detest. The thought of a martial art didn’t really interest her back then, but making her father spend money on something he would openly resist her taking was too good to pass up.

Hera landed a stinging leg kick on Diamond’s lead leg, her hard, strong shin was calloused roughly from years of conditioning and it welted the inside of Diamond’s thigh. She had taken a number of those kicks just above the knee in their first fight and remembered the week of limping and purple bruises. Experience told her she could soak the kicks but they would slow her down if she took very many more. She fought not to show weakness but the blazing pain caused her to wince. Hera smiled.

“Stop running, rich girl. Come on, fight me,” the Queen of the Gods taunted. She feinted a left jab and pivoted as she stepped forward, bringing her power leg on a course for the outside thigh of Diamond’s lead leg. It connected with a sickening thwack and Hera chuckled. “Chewing those legs up, Tiara. What will you do when you can’t run away?”

Diamond attempted to sweep clear her mind of her father as the second shot nearly kicked her leg out from beneath her. She cursed herself for letting Filthy distract her. She bit down onto her mouthpiece. Why did he have to hurt her? Why couldn’t he love her like all the other fathers? Even Silver Spoon’s dad. He was wealthy but he had been there for Silver Spoon. He didn’t forget her ballet recitals! He was there when she earned her white belt in karate! He hugged her and told her he was proud. Had Filthy ever been proud of Diamond in her whole life?

Her teeth ground into the rubber of the mouthguard as ire built within her. Anger clouded her mind and the pain of her left leg was a drop in the bucket of her broken heart’s anguish. She wanted to hit him. She wanted to punch him right in his sexist face!

Diamond’s left hand clenched as she threw a jab. A right handed cross followed after in a swift combination. Diamond had put a lot of steam into the right straight, too much. She wasn’t thinking correctly, should never have put that much power into a shot on a fully charged opponent.

Hera, a little surprised, managed to slip the punch enough that it only glanced off of her cheekbone and didn’t connect solidly. Recognizing the right was coming, Hera stepped into Diamond Tiara as she slipped the right hand. Catching Diamond’s overextended arm in one fluid motion and turning her left leg out, pinning Diamond’s lead leg with her right thigh, Hera hooked her right arm around Diamond’s waist and let her own momentum carry her forward as Farnese put little effort into the judo throw that sent the rich girl sprawling onto her back.

Following Diamond to the mat, Hera locked her hands together behind Diamond’s head, pressing the top of her cranium into Diamond’s chin. Hera’s left arm wrapped over Diamond’s right shoulder to meet her right arm coming up from beneath Diamond’s left armpit. She bore her chest down on top of Diamond’s as she took side control. Quickly, Hera got to her knees and used the force to crush down onto the rich girl’s chest, making her carry as much of Farnese’s weight as she could. “Got you, Tiara,” she grunted into her opponent’s ear. “Two minutes on the clock, plenty of time to break your arm.”

Diamond froze but knew she couldn’t let panic seize her up. She had made a mistake, fueled by rage, and was now on the ground with a superior grappler. Her own skills weren’t weak but Hera was a brown belt in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. While that honor wasn’t the highest in BJJ, it was very respected and Diamond’s purple belt, which she had only just earned a few weeks before, was a league below brown belt skill. She needed to get back to her feet. She couldn’t afford to stay on the mat with the Queen of the Gods or else she’d find herself tapping out to a choke or joint lock.

Hera knew how to make her weight seem far heavier than it was while she was on top and Diamond struggled to get a good, deep breath. It was hard to carry Hera and Diamond made an effort to get her right arm inside of Hera’s body but was denied. She knew that Hera was slick in her jiu jitsu and she had failed in their previous match to escape when she had been taken down. Diamond would have to survive for the rest of the round on her back, watching for the set up for an armbar or americana, joint locks that would force her to submit or break something.

Hera pulled her head from beneath Diamond’s chin and brought it to the side of her head, right beside her ear. “Too easy. It’s not enough. I want to punish rich old Daddy too. When you go home tonight, I want him to see how messed up you are,’ she whispered and suddenly released her grip, popping back up to her feet.

Amazed, Diamond lay on her back defensively. She watched as Hera shook her head, turned her back and walked a few steps towards the center of the octagon. She gestured for Diamond to get up and Stone Soufflé likewise motioned and commanded Diamond to stand.

Diamond rolled forward to her feet and stood. The searing heat in her lead leg reminded her of the damage it had taken but it was still functional and mobile.

Diamond fell into her stance and Hera grinned, the green of her mouthpiece had white, jagged teeth designed into it. It fit her, a beast reclaiming her territory. Diamond glanced at the clock. A minute thirty. Round one was drawing to a close and she was losing in strikes and takedowns. It didn’t surprise her, she had nothing for Hera. She didn’t deserve to be in the same cage.

Hera now stalked the center of the octagon, watching as Diamond bounced on her toes. Fleet of foot, Diamond tried to retake the center with her mobility, giving herself more room to work with but Farnese Hera moved at an angle and cut her off. Hera couldn’t quite stop her movement but she could protect the center and keep the cage only a few short steps behind Diamond.

Diamond understood that’s what her bestial opponent wanted, to trap her against the cage and unload bombs.

To hurt her.

To embarrass her.

Diamond already felt embarrassed. She could deny the rumors but…

Hera dropped to one knee in a trice and lunged forward; a takedown attempt. Pulling her feet back and squaring up to catch Hera on the back of the head or shoulders, Diamond prepared to sprawl and push down on Hera’s upper body in order to force her to the ground and thwart the takedown. Hera, however, grinned and put her feet under her, rising up from the takedown feint with a heavily loaded right uppercut.

Diamond realized too late that she had been baited and had fallen for the trick. The uppercut caught her square on the chin and straightened her bent posture, popping her head straight up into the air. Her ears rang and vision blurred as if something had exploded near her. Her legs felt weak, like jello and barely responded to her mental calls. She didn’t even feel the following left hook that sent her careening to the cage wall. Her senses were wonky and sent a jumbled mess of information to her brain.

Diamond didn’t know where she was. Her body went quiet and left only her flailing, misty mind to float into the gray haze of purgatory. It felt as if her skull were filled with gravy. Such a wild thought, she almost laughed but it sank into the thick paste of confusion before she could register it.

She lolled in the haze for what seemed an eternity but something scratched at her back. An itch maybe? She wasn’t sure but it was aggravating her. It was hard to focus but she managed to isolate the feeling and it spread like the light of a lighthouse. The brain-gravy dissipated in an instant and she remembered she was in a fight. Her heart thrummed to life in a moment of panic and she found herself returned to her body.

She was in trouble and she knew it. If not for the cage, she would have fallen. The fencing was rubberized over the metal mesh but it still dug into her back and shoulders. Her world wobbled and spun as the fog filtered the rest of the way from her mind. Her thoughts caught in a web of confusion and her body wrestled with the limited information, attempting to rectify her predicament without clear instruction.

Her hands were in a peek-a-boo defense, locked together from elbow to wrist and protecting her face and head that she couldn’t recall forming. She jerked back and forth and only realized after the fourth or fifth time that it was Hera raining powerful punches into her arms, trying to break her guard, that caused her to sway. Her arms hurt, she realized, so her brains were unclogging. Her legs stiffened and answered her cries. She was still hurt but surviving.

“MOVE! The ref will stop the fight if you don’t do something! You can’t just cover up, Diamond!” She heard Flick and Dempsey yelling. She didn’t know how long they had been instructing her but it felt like they were desperate so it must have been longer than she thought.

Diamond felt a hard knee connect in her left ribs and then a gloved fist ripped into her abdomen. The tightened muscles of her tummy burned and she understood that she had taken more than just the two blows that she had felt.

How long had she been out on her feet? How was she still standing? She didn’t have time to answer those questions as her mental faculties restored and snapped her fully awake.

Stone Soufflé was watching closely, his stare intent and he looked as if he was preparing to stop the fight. “Defend yourself, Diamond. If you keep covering up, I’m stopping it.”

She ate another body punch to the sternum followed by another hard blast to her peek-a-boo guard. She could hear the Queen of the Gods breathing hard, the time between her attacks was growing. She had piled the damage onto Diamond’s arms, grown frustrated, and went to the body when Diamond refused to fall.

Diamond peeked through her guard, the clock was high above the octagon but she didn’t need it as she heard the wooden blocks clapped that signified the ten second warning. The round was about to end and she didn’t remember the last minute. Her body pulsed with pain from head to toe. She had absorbed a lot of punishment and done so while technically out. Her conditioning had paid off, her natural toughness was taking the abuse well but she wouldn’t be able to absorb forever. She would be limited coming out for round two but Hera, who was gasping in gouts of air with her mouth wide open was tired.

Diamond watched the slow, sloppy technique coming from Hera and disengaged her guard as Hera went high with a right hook. Diamond propped her left foot up onto the cage and kicked off of it, propelling her forward while closing the distance between the two. She sliced forward with the elbow of her right arm, catching Hera off guard, and the superman elbow connected violently with Hera’s forehead. Diamond saw it in slow motion, the blade elbow slicing the skin of her opponent and tearing a bright crimson line at the hairline.

The bell rang and Hera snarled, bringing her hand up and coming away dripping with fresh blood. She breathed hard and bore a hole of hatred through Diamond with her eyes. “You‘ll… fall … next round, Tiara.”

Pain was nothing new to Diamond Tiara but they weren’t friends. It was more like an annoying family member you had to put up with but couldn’t ask to leave.

She made her way back to her corner, a grimacing teammate and an annoyed coach waiting for her. She still felt light-headed and her gait was far from fluid as she made her way to the corner.

She felt warm liquid dripping down her cheek and only then realized as she touched it that she had a nasty cut beneath her left eye. Not as bad as Hera’s, but it sizzled angrily and belched hot, red crimson.

Round Two

Diamond sat hard on the small wooden seat Flicker Jab had brought into the cage between rounds. Flick kneeled in front of her and Dempsey flanked him to his right. Dempsey pressed a bag of ice into Diamond’s lead leg which flared bright red like a terrible sunburn and carried an ugly welt inside of her knee the shape of a foot. If looked at closely, there were toe marks.

The cutman, Diamond didn’t know or, possibly, couldn’t recall his name, took out a long, thick cue tip and ran it into a bottle of vaseline that had been mixed with adrenaline chloride. The middle aged man with a thick mustache pulled the jelly material from the bottle and pried the light cut beneath her left eye open before slathering the Vaseline into the bleeding crevice. Immediately the blood vessels tightened and the bleeding halted.

“That was a bad round, Diamond. You lost it, maybe even got 10-8’d. Hera had you pinned for a long time and you just took the damage. What is going through your head? You landed a leg kick and, admittedly, a nice elbow, but you let her dominate you,” Flick said, completely sugar free.

Flick was worried more than mad, Diamond knew. His eyebrows were forming an upside down W on his forehead. She shook her head, wanting to admit to him that she didn’t have what it took to beat the true Queen of the division. Instead she motioned for a sip of water.

Dempsey responded quickly and sprayed a line of clear, cold water into Diamond’s mouth. The cold was refreshing. She swallowed and wanted more but waved it away, not wanting to cramp or feel sick from too much between rounds.

The mustached cutman held a cold metal enswell into the bright and lightly swelling damage beneath her right eye. The icy compress would reduce the swelling and keep her in the fight. The metal was cold enough that her nerves processed it as a burn momentarily before allowing it to soothe the burning flesh.

“Are you just going to let her unload on you and then ignore me?” Flick’s eyes had stormy, lightning flashes of frustration behind his pupils. “I know you’re stubborn, Diamond. It’s not a bad trait but I’m here to protect you and help you win this fight. If you aren’t going to try, why are we here?”

Diamond brought her eyes to meet Flick’s, her own storm clouds brewing behind the bright. blue mirrors. “Do you think I won the first fight? I know I got the decision, but did I really win?”

Flick paused and bit his lip; it was all the answer Diamond needed.

“Why are you so hung up on the first fight, Diamond? Because people think your dad bought the judges? Is that it?” Flick sighed, taking Diamond by the shoulder and pulling her forward. “No, you didn’t win. You fought your best but came up short. I don’t know what the judges saw that awarded you the decision but you’re a damn good fighter and you’re smart. Smarter than this.”

“Minute’s out!” the ref called to the coaches on both sides. Dempsey and the cutman hurried out of the octagon as Diamond stood. Flicker Jab remained.

“She’s not fighting intelligently. She wants to hurt you, knock you out. You’ve got all the tools to make her pay for it. Don’t just stand there and let her hurt you, Diamond.”

“Minute’s out!” the ref reiterated, irritation interred in the timbre of his voice. Flick quickly exited the cage.

Diamond hopped from foot to foot. Her body was responsive and still full of energy albeit hurting from a number of places. She pondered her predicament and turned back to Flicker Jab on the other side of the cage. He really did believe in her.

“She’s not hiding anything she’s doing! She’ll come straight ahead. She doesn't have as much energy this round so she’ll be slower and pick her shots. When she throws, slip and retaliate. Watch for head kicks! You can do this, Diamond!” Flick pounded the edge of the cage.

Hera stepped to the lines drawn around the center of the canvas and Diamond stepped forward. Both fell into their postures and Soufflé stood in the center. He looked to both contestants, “Ready? Ready? Round two, let’s do it!” His hand fell and the round began.

Diamond remained light on her feet and stepped forward, coming to meet Farnese in the center of the octagon. Using her peripheral, Diamond kept Hera’s footwork in mind. Those kicks were nasty and incredibly fast. Even if she wasn’t at 100 percent, the practice had made her kicks deceptively quick and Diamond had to watch for the minutiae of motions that would predict the…

Hera’s feet moved, the lead pivoting and the rear launching forward. Diamond reacted strongly but the kick went low, crashing into her outer calf. The crash of their legs colliding was nauseating. Hera reset quickly and instantly threw a lead jab. Diamond slid her head back so that the punch terminated a few inches short and flashed a left jab of her own that similarly missed.

She needed to time Farnese’s jab better. If she could figure it out, she could retaliate with a right straight that careened over the extended arm. It was a movement Diamond had practiced a thousand times in training.

Maybe Flicker jab was right. Maybe she could pull this off.

Another leg kick slammed into the same spot as before and Diamond winced. She’d need to time those kicks in order to turn her knee out and check them. The affected calf felt like it was aflame.

Diamond stepped forward, initiating a quick one-two combination. Her jab was parried by the high right hand pressing into Hera’s eyebrow and the straight right that followed went wide as Hera’s left arm knocked it aside. The Queen of the Gods pushed a short jab into Diamond’s right cheek. There wasn’t much behind the blow and Diamond realized why as a violent leg kick ripped into the exact place it had already connected with twice this round. The jab was masking the kick.

Diamond retreated a step, regrouping and testing the mechanical soundness of her left leg. It shrieked blistering pain and she felt a weird wobble to it; the calf was swelling. She needed to deal with those kicks soon or her mobility would suffer.

Hera moved forward in a flash and Diamond stepped in and planted her lead foot, sending her back leg straight into Hera’s midsection. The toes of Diamond’s foot dug into the hard abdominal muscles and pushed Farnese back a step. Farnese nodded playfully and clapped her fists together before coming forward again. Those eyes weren’t playful however.

Diamond faked another push kick, bringing her hip forward and pausing Farnese. She then hopped forward and feinted a jab to which Hera reacted with head movement, rocking away from the perceived incoming blow. Diamond brought her body around and went low with a right body hook that landed with a resounding thump. Hera smirked and broke her stance, standing upright and smacking her stomach twice.

“Free shot, Tiara. Go for it. You think you can hurt me?” Hera taunted.

Diamond snapped off a one-two combination into Farnese’s body, both punches hitting the same spot just below Hera’s sternum. It was as hard as iron and Diamond grimaced to herself as Hera motioned for her to throw again, arms out wide.

Frustration grew and Diamond planted her back foot, launching a rocket-fueled body kick with her lead leg and following it with a hard power hand blow. The kick buried itself into Hera’s ribs but she didn’t even blink. The right went high, catching the Queen of the Gods solidly on the jaw.

The crowd booed unanimously and Hera ceased her showmanship. She didn’t seem phased by either blow and resumed her stance, throwing a front kick that nearly caught Diamond beneath the chin. Diamond saw the ball of her foot far too closely.

“Don’t play those games, Diamond. She’s getting in your head,” Flick yelled.

“Gonna chew that leg up again, Richie. Get ready…” Hera teased, faking a leg kick. “No… not yet. Oh, here it comes!” Her hip jerked forward and Diamond rolled her weight to her back foot to lessen the force of the blow on her lead leg. The kick didn’t come and Farnese grinned, her toothy mouthguard showing.

She was toying with her, Diamond knew, but didn’t know what to do about it. She had loaded the right hand that caught Hera’s jaw and she hadn’t budged. Farnese was tough but she didn’t roll with it, dodge, or anything to lessen the impact. It had been a clean, hard punch and Hera had eaten it like a bowl of cereal: with a smile.

In their first fight, Diamond had landed a few good punches that had stunned Farnese in the second round. Was it possible the woman had grown tougher?

“So, I’ve been thinking, Tiara. You and Daddy bought the belt last time. Obviously the fans hate you,” Hera said and landed another naked leg kick. “Are you going to throw this one? Did rich old Daddy bet against you this time? You going to lay down for Daddy? Obviously if you get another robbery there will be an investigation. You’d probably get banned forever. What round are you going to lay down? I’ll make it look really good for you.”

Diamond outwardly ignored Hera’s comments but it brought Filthy Rich back to the front of her mind. She couldn’t ignore him. The crowd cheered as Diamond failed to check another kick into her calf. It felt like boiling water was being poured down her leg and it was beginning to feel a little heavier.

Another kick came like a ballistic missile and Diamond reached down just as it made contact, trapping Farnese’s leg and pulling it up, sending Hera back and hopping on one leg to keep her balance. One, two, three right jabs shot into Hera’s face before Diamond lost her grip on the ankle. She had driven Hera back a few feet from the cage and pressed forward. She lifted her right knee quickly but missed as Hera rolled out to Diamond’s left and returned a right hand into Diamond’s injured cheek. The cut reopened and dribbled blood down Diamond’s chin and onto the mat below.

Diamond followed laterally, keeping Hera in front of her. She was reacting in the wrong ways and Hera tossed a light jab into her forehead followed by another cracking leg kick that visibly slowed her.

“I hope they kick you out of mma forever, Diamond. You cheating bitch,” Farnese exclaimed.

Get kicked out of mma? But she didn’t know! She was a pawn, just like everyone her father dealt with. How could she have known?

He may cost her the sport she loved yet. It was underhanded enough that it had his fingerprints all over it. She remembered when he had discovered her hobby.

“You mean, you’ve been taking these unladylike classes for four years, Diamond? Is that what you are telling me?” Filthy Rich roared at his daughter. She had never seen him this upset, not even during the worst moments of his career as a businessman had he looked so visibly furious. His cheeks were flushed and a thick, pulsating vein pounded in the center of his forehead. His eyes jerked ravenously in their sockets as if trying to free themselves from the confines of his skull.

Diamond had never been struck by her father but she half expected him to march up to her and slap the insolent grin off of her face. It would be harder than he thought to erase her grin. Since she had recently turned sixteen, Flicker Jab had allowed her to spar with other young amateurs. You never completely got used to being hit in the face but the shock of it was long since gone. It was nice to put the last four years of learning to the test but it had cost her a black eye. That’s how Filthy had found out.

“Yes, Dad. You said I could pick anything but karate and I did,” she stated, matter-of-factly and smirked.

She watched his eyebrows turn sinister and he moved to her, towering over her and poking her forehead with one finger. “You know that’s not what I meant. Use your brain, Diamond!”

“I like learning mma, Dad! Nobody else I know is doing anything as fun as this extra-curricularly. It’s going to set me apart for college. A lot of colleges want to see a varied interest in studies …”

“Of course nobody you know is doing it! They aren’t as foolish as you! Anybody you SHOULD know would be turned away by such a brutish, brainless hobby as this!” He growled and took his hand from her forehead. He took two long, deliberate steps away from her before snapping around to continue his tirade. “Liberal schools, Diamond! Liberal colleges want something like this. Empowerment of women, ruin the economy, break up the foundations of business we men have laid.”

Diamond scoffed and felt hurt. “And what if I were a boy, Dad? What would you say then?”

Filthy tried to remain rational but was festering. “If only you had been a son, Diamond. I wouldn’t have to put up with your crazy ideas and disobedience.”

“I’m not quitting, before you even try to make me.”

Filthy was silent, introspective. He shook his head unbelievingly. Diamond could tell he didn’t know how to handle the situation. He had never been a parent, had hired people to be her parents in his stead. He didn’t like dealing with her because he couldn’t throw his finances around to bend her to his will. Her obstinance was a trait Diamond thought he should be proud of, after all, she had received it from him.

“You know, Diamond. When you were still inside your mother, the doctor… a female doctor… told us you would be a boy. Did you know that?” He asked softly, his body went limp and slack, he looked miserable. Diamond was surprised and feared where the conversation would lead.

“N...no,” she answered weakly.

“Your name was supposed to be Damon. Damon Delanore Rich. The night you were born a girl was the biggest disappointment of my life. This is the second.” Filthy leaned onto one of the leather chairs around his desk and appeared defeated.

Diamond felt as if she had been cracked with a baseball bat. She couldn’t formulate a cohesive thought. Her heart ripped in twain, shattered, and turned to lead in her chest. She desperately fought the tears welling in her eyes.

“You want to embarrass me, Diamond? Go ahead. But I don’t want to see you. Get out of my office and leave me alone.”

She had gone to her room, a whirlwind of emotions. Her pillow caught irate screams, sorrowful tears, and unseen, emotional trauma before she could finally sleep. When it finally came, she slept for 18 straight hours. Every time she woke up, she felt like a failure and clenched her eyes, willing herself back to the black void.

Diamond turned her knee too late to catch the razor bladed kick to her outer calf. She stumbled as her leg flew up from the ground from the severity of the kick. She recovered but caught a left hook to the jaw that backed her up. Hera pressured her, looming like a juggernaut. Diamond hit the cage and Hera’s step-in elbow raked her forehead.

Another low to high combination from Hera found its mark. Diamond threw a defensive uppercut that missed wildly and Hera’s powerful right hand landed solidly into the already cut cheek, spraying blood to the floor and widening the gash.

“Diamond! Get out of there! Don’t strike with her against the cage!” Flick called to his fighter. Diamond covered up and felt both of Farnese’s hands lock around her head. The knees were coming.

Diamond’s body took the first one, her defending arms the second and third. Hera’s knees were like shotgun blasts and Diamond’s arms quivered from the blows. She felt the edge of panic stick into her abdomen like a frozen nail and put her feet under her, pushing with all of her might into Hera’s chest. Somehow it worked and the Queen of the Gods staggered back a step.

Diamond tried to dance to the center of the octagon around the side of Hera but her left leg was slow from the accumulation of damage. It felt like she was wearing weights for endurance training on it.

She looked up at the clock, 30 seconds left in the round.

Masking the damage to her leg and shaking away the fuzz in her head from the punches, Diamond stepped as quickly as she could laterally, trying to keep Hera chasing for the remainder of the round.

“That leg’s done. You can’t hide it,” Farnese chuckled and cut the cage in half, blocking Diamond’s movement. “One more kick and it’s done. You ready to fall, Richie? Ready to let Daddy watch you lose?”

Diamond couldn’t let herself be baited anymore. She was struggling to survive the round. The minute between rounds and the ice that came with it would hopefully get her leg back in the game. Diamond attempted to switch stances to southpaw but it felt awkward. The stance would put her swollen left leg behind her and out of harm’s way, but she had always been an orthodox fighter and she feared the reverse footwork would lower her defense. She needed to switch back quickly. The clapping of the wooden blocks signified the round was almost over.

They stared at one another, Diamond trying to get away, Farnese keeping her boxed into one section of the canvas. Hera grinned as Diamond switched back to orthodox.

“Here it comes, Diamond. The leg kick that ends your ability to move!” Farnese mocked and made her move. Her hips pivoted and Diamond saw the weight shift onto her lead leg.

The bell that signified the end of the round rang loudly.

The kick had started and Diamond couldn’t move in time to avoid it or check it. She thought she heard Flick shout something but it was too difficult to hear over the crowd, the buzzer, and the ringing in her ears. She brought her left arm down to try and catch the kick just as the jumbled words made sense.

Head kick, he had said.

Soufflé moved to get between the contestants but the kick was far too fast. “Hera, STOP!” He interjected.

Diamond’s eyes went wide as the Queen of the Gods powerful leg slipped over her arm and followed the trajectory to her undefended head. Diamond saw Hera’s grin break apart as she realized the bell had sounded. It was an illegal strike, the bell had rang but there was nothing she could do. The point of no return had been reached.

The leg kicks were a set up, Diamond realized. She had been baited into worrying about the damage to her leg and mobility in order to condition her to react to leg kicks. Then, once she did, it left her head wide open for attack.

“Clever,” Diamond thought just before all of her senses were blown out of the side of her head.

Counter

Diamond found herself in the empty theatre room of her family’s mansion. Rich, wine-colored carpets, plush velvet seats, and expensive wall sconces made the room seem like a real theatre. She looked around and realized she was alone. She wasn’t sure why she had come to the viewing room but she took her regular seat near the middle of the 25 seat auditorium.

She wondered what was showing. Her family owned several movie theatres around Canterlot and she regularly was privileged to view new releases even before the official release date here in her family’s home. Much was made available to her for being part of the Rich family and she had to admit, seeing movies in the comfort of her home without having to visit a cinema where other, louder people could interrupt her enjoyment of a film was one she appreciated. She looked for a playbill or some other item that may explain what was about to show but couldn’t find one.

It was a special event, one just for her, but she was a little discouraged that neither her father nor her mother had come to watch with her. She was accustomed to disappointment when it came to her parents, however, and snuggled down into the comfortable seat just as the house lights dimmed and the screen flickered to life in all of its silver delight.

She wished she had some popcorn to enjoy as well but she knew better than to eat something so delicious and counter-productive to her training regimen. Despite fighting in the 115 pound division, Diamond walked around at 123 pounds and the weight cuts were harrowing enough without the extra butter and carbs.

An image of Diamond flashed onto the screen and the film jittered and popped with small imperfections as were found in older movies. She stood on the screen, looking heroically up and to the right while dressed in her typical ring garb, a black top and purple trunks with ‘Tiara’ written up the side in black. A pair of mma gloves were on her fists and her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail instead of cornrows, but she only styled her hair in that manner for fights, not training. The title appeared in gold and floated in front of Diamond’s image: Hard as Diamond, the career of Diamond Tiara.

Diamond chuckled to herself and wondered who had made this film. She didn’t think there had ever been cameras around as she trained except for the times her fights were televised, and even then they had to get her approval to film anywhere outside of an arena.

A series of training vignettes of Diamond flickered by one after another showing a young teenage girl learning the arts of boxing, Muay Thai, and Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. The youngster started wobbly and insecure. Her strikes were feeble and barely did more than make contact. On the mat she was routinely being mangled and slapping her open hand against her opponent in a symbol tapping out. One scene, which caused Diamond to blush and happy nobody else was viewing the screening, showed her hiding in a corner of the gym crying.

Suddenly her strikes gained pop, the natural flow of her movements becoming slick and experienced. She reversed a kimura and tapped another student. Her takedowns became polished and she was hitting double and single leg attempts with an ease reserved for disciplined wrestlers. She grew several inches, her body transforming from that of a soft, pillowy child to a lean, strong young adult. Her muscles developed, the intensity in her eyes growing more and more fierce.

The training montage ended and was replaced with Diamond in her first amateur match. Neither she nor her opponent were particularly skilled in any one area yet but Diamond was landing solid body blows and working her way up in a combination to the head that snapped back her opponent’s cranium back. The girl, Diamond couldn’t see her clearly or recall her name, stiffened and fell like a statue, shattering on impact to lay very still. Diamond raised her hands and turned to the corner, Flicker Jab was giving her a thumbs up and shouting something she couldn’t hear over the crowd.

It had been a taste of victory. Sweet and addictive, Diamond had wanted more, she recalled. After years of training, testing her skills against another martial artist had been thrilling. She could still recollect the tingling of her body, that feeling of chill bumps had prickled all over her body like a thousand acupuncture needles. Even if she had started mma to spite her father, that was the moment when she had fallen in love with the sport.

Another montage of amateur matches began. Diamond caught an armbar, snapped a head kick followed by blistering body punches that wilted her opponent, a decision victory, ref after ref holding her arm up in victory over a rotating variety of opponents. Her non-professional career spanned eight victories and no losses.

Diamond watched the smile on the face of her younger self and saw what had been missing since the controversy with her father had come to light: she wasn’t having fun. Up until six months ago each fight had been another means to challenge herself, not just her skills but her character as well. Fighting had given her drive and motivation. It had given her a purpose that went beyond trying to make people forget she was Filthy Rich’s daughter. She was achieving something on her own, by her own skill, and it wasn’t something she did to try and win her father’s attention or affection. It was for her; she fought because she enjoyed it.

Diamond had turned professional at 19 years old and fought at various organizations until the Canterlot Fighting Championship had made her an offer on a three fight contract. The fights leading up to her CFC debut flashed on screen. Tougher competition than before but Diamond had still performed at a higher caliber than those on the smaller regional circuits. Her boxing was nearly unstoppable in the lower promotions and she had battled her way to the belt twice in those other, tournament-style promotions. Six of her wins had come from them and she had only gone to decision once.

Then the CFC called and made fighting an occupation. She had been fighting for the CFC for three years. Eight fights. Once again there had been a rise in competition and, once more, Diamond’s skills had improved enough to fight to the top.

The theatre played highlights of each fight in the CFC. The bout with Haymaker had been her debut and the large woman cut a massive amount of weight to make 115 pounds. She walked around at 135, a full two divisions higher than strawweight so when fight night came, she was slinging an extra 20 pounds of weight behind her sizable fists.

Haymaker was primarily a boxer with a brawling style, Diamond was certain the titan of a woman didn’t know what a straight punch was, opting to swing wide, arcing death at full power with each horrifying strike. Diamond winced as she watched herself get caught with three consecutive heavy punches. She remembered the moment her nose had shattered like a wine glass and the fountain of burgundy blood that had flowed from her nostrils. A smile crossed her features.

She had never had her nose broken but it wasn’t as bad as she had thought it would be. Her nose still ran at a slight angle from that fight. It hurt, for sure, but Diamond had toughed it out and punished the big woman for her lack of technique. Diamond’s technical striking had been on point; sharp, stiff, and straight, each punch she had thrown beat the dangerous, looping punches of the larger woman to their mark. Haymaker had fallen in round two to a venomous right cross and Diamond had mounted her quickly, raining hammer fists down into the hurt brawler’s face until the ref had stopped the fight.

Even with a nose full of blood, gasping in air through her mouth, Diamond managed to smile as her glove was held high. Sitting in the theatre, Diamond’s smile grew until it could hardly be contained by her cheeks. She was proud of her accomplishments, proud of herself.

Each new fight flared across the screen, every one was a challenge in their own way. BJJ specialists, wrestlers, boxers, kickboxers, well rounded fighters who were dangerous anywhere in the cage, Diamond had faced them all and still held a perfect record. Four wins by knockout or technical knockout, one by submission, and three by decision.

The decisions were bitter to Diamond and she watched them closely. Had Filthy Rich, her father, bribed the judges for all of her fights? She may never know the truth, but as she watched herself on the screen, she could see the fire that burned within her heart, the desire to push herself and become a better athlete.

No. Even if Daddy had paid off the judges, she had earned her decision victories. All but one. The last one, the fight she had become champion.

She didn’t earn that one. She could barely watch as Farnese Hera blasted her with kicks, took her to the ground, and made her look bad. Diamond frowned and stared at the carpeted floor of the mansion’s theatre room. The crimson carpeting reminded her of the blood that had flowed from her injured, wrecked body at the end of that fight.

The confusion of hearing her name called as the victor, the embarrassment of the rumored cheating, and, worst of all, the embarrassment in herself for holding a belt she knew deep down she had not deserved still cut her deeply. She was not proud of herself after that fight.

She looked up to the screen and saw herself holding her hands victoriously above her head, a shocked look on her face, and wearing the title strap round her waist. Her heart fluttered in her chest and the film ended abruptly.

“You could never have won without me, Diamond,” her father’s voice called out over the speaker system of the theatre. She turned and looked to the projection booth, a darkened glass blocking all but the opening for the projector. A man-sized silhouette stood behind the glass, arms crossed. She could feel the scowl though she couldn’t see it.

“You are a loser, Diamond. A loser by birth. A loser by being a woman. You’ll never amount to anything more than some man’s trophy wife. Stop this foolishness already, no man wants a scarred up woman as their own.” Filthy had said those words to her when he attended, by accident, one of her fights.

She had caught a solid knee squarely in the face and her forehead had unzipped like a designer purse. She had seen her skull below the seared, ripped flesh. It had taken nine stitches to close the two inch wound after the fight and if she had not knocked out her opponent in that round, the doctors would have stopped the fight.

“The only gash a husband wants to see on his wife is the natural one. You’ll never make me proud, Diamond, but you could at least do what I tell you to do.”

Diamond rotated in her seat, standing quickly. She had heard enough of this psychological warfare from her father in her life. She was over it. The house lights lifted and she growled at the shadow of her father looming high above her. She threw an upturned middle finger to him. “I don’t need you in my life, Dad! Not if this is how you are going to treat me! FUCK YOU!”

She was unconscious… this was a dream. She had never been able to stand up to her father like that in the real world. The dream of her telling her father off was recurring. She had it twice a week but she still couldn’t enact it in the waking world. She couldn’t let that continue. He wouldn’t rule her life and make her feel like a failure anymore. Not another moment would she tolerate his spiteful, old-world views.

The booth went dark, the projector dimmed and only Diamond stood alone in her mind’s theatre. She had earned her title shot, Daddy couldn’t take that away from her. Whether he had paid off the judges or not before she fought Farnese Hera the first time, she had earned her victories. Her performances were a credit to her training.

That only left the one fight. Diamond looked to her calloused hands and gripped them hard enough the nails bit into the flesh of her palms, little rivers of blood began to drip to the crimson floor, camouflaging themselves in the high carpet. A tear rolled down her cheek and she gritted her teeth, hating her father for hurting her in this new, cruel way. Making her second guess herself and the years she had dedicated to the sport she loved.

But… this was a rematch. Even if the roles of challenger and champion were reversed, wasn’t it a chance to right the previous wrong?

It was, Diamond answered herself. She could prove tonight that she IS a champion, that she had earned the belt.

And her father was ruining it! She was hating him, hating herself, and hating herself for hating a man who couldn’t care less about her so much that it was distracting her from the one thing that she wanted more than anything: a chance to win the strawweight belt for real.

Diamond’s hands unclenched and she stared at the gold plated belt that suddenly appeared. She was missing her chance. She needed to focus on herself and her dreams, not the dramas outside of fighting, if she wanted to win. There would be time enough to deal with Daddy later. Now she needed to do what she was meant to.

Her body began to jitter as if she were caught in an earthquake. She could feel the trembling, jarring pulses feeding up her legs and into her core. Her chest thumped hard and a rush of cleansing energy filled her, pouring up from her heart. It was her hate, her embarrassment, it was being forced out of her. It came rushing like hounds from hell and she steadied herself against the force. She would let it out all at once in one big eruption.

“NO!” Diamond shouted! “You won’t ruin this for me, Dad! I’M NOT A LOSER! I’M MORE THAN YOU THINK I AM! I’M A CHAMPION, DAD! I’M A CHAMPION AND I DON’T NEED YOU!”

Diamond’s eyes popped open hazily. She was crouched against the cage and the left side of her face was agony just below her eye across the cut she had previously suffered. Her mind was fuzzy but she remembered bracing herself for the head kick. It must have landed flush.

Her fingers were locked in the fencing of the cage and her legs were wobbling but she hadn’t fallen to the canvas. She had been unconscious, Diamond was certain. The head kick had knocked her out on her feet and sent her careening to the cage.

But she still remained on her feet.

“Diamond! Are you okay?” Stone Soufflé asked forcefully. The tone of his voice sounded as if he had already asked her once. Was the fight still on? She hoped it was.

“Yeah…,” she squeaked out but could hear the weakness in the words. Her vision blurred like an unfocused camera and the crowd outside of the cage was booing. She could see the unhappy faces on all of the fight fans. Were they booing her? She couldn’t tell.

“Diamond Tiara, are you alright? Answer me,” Stone reiterated and kneeled before her, his face blurring and clearing rhythmically to the beat of her heart. The world spun behind the ref and Diamond struggled to center the spinning double images. She needed to answer him.

“Yes!” she forced the words from her lips and turned her head, looking him dead in the eye despite her swirling vision.

“Take your time, I’m getting the doctor to look at you,” the ref said. “Doctor! Come into the octagon!”

Why was the doctor coming in? Was she hurt? Why did she need to take her time? If the fight was over she had all the time she needed to be seen by the doc. It must still be on. This was serious. Diamond needed to get herself together before the doctor could see her condition and end the fight.

Raising an arm to press into her temple, Diamond opened and shut her eyes repeatedly, trying to flush the blurriness from her vision. Her ears rang and she felt a swelling under her eye where pain flared like a bursting firework from the touch of her gloved hand. It felt like a golf ball was wedged beneath her eyelid.

She labored to stand, the ring spun as she gained altitude and she had to use the cage for support.

“Easy, Diamond. Let the doc look at you. If you can’t continue, I’m stopping the fight. You got hit late, so if you can’t continue you will win by disqualification. Do you understand me?” the ref asked and Diamond knew he wanted her to make a clear judgment of her abilities. Shots after the bell were illegal and she didn’t have to fight if she were too badly compromised from the strike.

Diamond pressed her palm deeper into the side of her head and closed her eyes. Her body felt as if it were floating in the ocean and stinging jellyfish were carrying her out to sea. Her ribs were cracked on her right side, her left leg was welted and swollen to the point that it was probably compromising her agility, and something was assuredly wrong with her left cheek. Her skin felt like an overfilled water balloon jiggling and stretched to the breaking point.

“Move your hand, please,” a strict voice demanded. Opening her eyes once more and finding them focused on the ringside doctor, she removed her hand.

The doctor was an older woman with grayed hair tied back in a tight bun. She adjusted the glasses on her nose and tilted her head back to look through them.

Diamond saw blood covering the inside of her glove as she pulled the hand away. The cut was flowing again. The doctor grimaced, not a good sign. Diamond turned her eyes to her opponent, the dizziness fading, and found Farnese crouched in a neutral corner. Her shoulders were slumped, head down, and forearms supported by her knees. She was shaking her red mohawked head. The fight was over and Hera knew she was about to be disqualified, Diamond surmised.

But Diamond didn’t want the fight to end.

“I’m okay, doc. Let me fight. I can continue. Don’t stop it, please,” she pleaded with the doctor whose eyes widened questioningly back.

“This cut is pretty bad,” she said and pressed her thumbs into the screaming place beside the cut, feeling the bones. She shook her head with displeasure. “This bone is probably broken.”

“I can fight, doc,” Diamond wanted to shriek from the pain but only winced. She didn’t want to betray her willingness to continue with weakness.

The doctor’s brows furrowed with concern and she tilted her head back once more, squinting to get one more good look at the cut. “What’s your name?”

“Diamond Tiara.”

“Where are we?”

“Canterlot Sporting Arena.”

“Who were you fighting?”

“The Queen of the Gods.”

The doctor paused, “Who?”

Diamond’s mind was clear now, the fog lifted. “Farnese Hera. I’m good, doctor. Let me continue.”

The old woman righted her head and the glasses fell to her chest, suspended by a silvery chain. She turned to Stone Soufflé and nodded. “She can continue.”

The crowd cheered at once and the sound shook the arena. The doctor exited the cage and the ref came before Diamond.

“You’ve got five minutes to recover, Diamond, if you want to continue. Take the time, let me know if you want to keep fighting.”

Diamond already knew the answer but she needed a moment to get her legs under her once more. Her head was almost back online but cobwebs still clung in the corners.

“Diamond!” Flicker called and she looked to him, her legs still weak beneath her body. She was doubled over, sucking in cool air and trying to recover. “You’re hurt bad. Don’t continue.”

“No coaching!” the ref warned sternly before turning back to Diamond. “Five minutes, Diamond. Tell me what you want to do then.

The crowd went silent again, waiting on Diamond's decision. She already knew the answer; this was her chance to recover her pride. She was going to continue whether or not she should but she was going to take the full five minutes to allow her body to recover from the late head kick. Little by little the cobwebs deteriorated and she tested her motions, feeling as though she had never been in her body before.

Her leg was a concern; it could bear weight but it was slower to move than she would like. Her ribs hurt but she’d had cracked ribs before and they would only be a nuisance during the fight. Of course the next four to six weeks were going to be painful even when she breathed, but that was a problem for the future. The orbital bone was worrisome as well. Her left eye was swelling from below. She didn’t think it would close fully but she wondered how much more damage it would be able to take and if there would be anything permanently wrong afterward. Her cheek was lumpy and the cut was drooling blood. Her black top looked like a murder scene and much of her torso’s pink flesh was stained crimson.

She needed to protect her cheek and eye. If the swelling closed her eye or if the cut opened too much, the doctor would stop the fight and she would lose. Continuing would be stupid considering the amount of damage she had taken and the likelihood of more in the following rounds, but Diamond had something to prove. She also owed Farnese a chance to recover the belt and a loss by dq would end her opportunity for at least a year. Diamond couldn’t do that to her.

Her senses righted themselves and her mind cleared over the next few minutes. She didn’t feel good but her body was responsive and she could organize her thoughts. The ref watched her and checked the time.

“Diamond, time’s up. Do you want to continue?” Stone Soufflé asked. The crowd had been silent for five full minutes as Diamond weighed her options.

Diamond watched Farnese who still crouched defeatedly. Farnese was a clean fighter of principle and respect. The strike was late but she wouldn’t have thrown it intentionally after the bell. Diamond smiled to herself and nodded to the ref. “Yes, I want to continue.”

The crowd exploded like an atomic bomb. The foundation of the building rattled from the raucous noise.

“Fighters, take your corners. Round three will begin after one minute,” the ref stated and Farnese popped her head up in surprise. The Muay Thai expert cast her doubting eyes to Diamond Tiara who nodded back. Hera’s corner entered and she gave a quick thumbs up to Diamond before making her way to the corner.

Flicker Jab placed the stool down and Diamond sat quickly. He looked deeply into her eyes. “Diamond, I know you feel like you owe this to Hera but you have to think of your health. You’ve had two poor rounds and that late kick knocked you out, didn’t it? I know you didn’t hit the mat but your arms went limp and your legs barely held you up.”

Diamond accepted the water offered to her by Dempsey Roll and hissed painfully as the icy enswell pressed into the broken orbital bone. The vaseline swab was being swept into the cut again. She swallowed two small sips and looked to Dempsey who could only grimace. She must look a wreck.

“Diamond, answer me,” Flick said.

Diamond turned her attention back to him and sighed, “Yeah, Flick. I was out. I went out in the first round as well.”

“You shouldn’t have continued, Sweetie. You’re hurt too bad and you're fighting like you don’t want to win. Why are you doing this? I know you are better than this.” The coach pulled her to him, their foreheads touching. “You’re the closest thing to a kid I’ve ever had. I’m not going to let you ruin your career because you think Farnese deserves the belt back.”

Diamond closed her eyes and reached her hand out around the back of Flicker Jab’s neck. “I didn’t win, Flick. Dad bought two of the judges. I didn’t know, you believe me don’t you?”

“That snake,” Flick said under his breath. He paused and spit to the canvas. “Of course I believe you, Diamond. You’re the best, most honest fighter I’ve ever taught. You respect the sport too much to cheat. You’re not that lousy father of yours.”

Diamond smiled to herself and nodded. “Then trust me on this. I’m ready now. The last fight is in the past, this one’s not. Hera’s kick woke me up, knocked some sense into me. I can win this fight, really earn the belt.”

Flick looked deep into Diamond’s blue eyes and nodded. “Prove to me you are in this, Diamond. If you have another round like one or two and I’m going to throw the towel in. I’m not going to watch you get brain damaged because you are too tough for your own good.”

“Thanks, Flick. I’ve got this,” Diamond answered as the ref called for the end of the minute.

“Then you take it to her, like we practiced. Show her who the Queen of this division is. It ain’t her, Diamond! Make her respect you!” Flick stood and motioned Dempsey Roll to take the ice and stool out of the octagon. The cutman patted Diamond’s shoulder as he left and Flick followed last. He hurried outside and looked up at his fighter through the cage. “Protect that cheek. If you have trouble breathing through your nose, don’t blow it. Your eye will swell shut from the air pressure.

Diamond nodded and began bouncing on her toes in preparation for the beginning of the third round.

Round Three

Stone Soufflé waited for the minute between rounds to take Farnese Hera’s wrist and pull her to the center of the octagon. He stepped towards each judge and held up a single finger as he stated, “One point! One point! One point.”

Farnese protested with the ref but his judgment was final in the matter. Before releasing her to take her mark he warned, “Another late strike and I’ll disqualify you. Keep it clean, Hera.”

Diamond watched from behind the center marking. Hera shot her a glance of displeasure but there was something else there as well, respect? Diamond wasn’t sure but fell into her stance as the ref took the center. Diamond had lost the last round but the point deduction for the illegal strike made it a wash. That meant she was down one point, maybe more depending on how the judges had scored the beating she had endured in the first round. She needed all three remaining rounds if she were going to take the fight.

There was no time to play, no time for thoughts beyond the here and now, beyond the fight. Her body ached but she was still moving well, still able to right the last two rounds if she fought smart and fought hard.

“Are you ready?” the ref turned to Hera who nodded. “”Are you ready?” Diamond pounded her gloves together and took her traditional form. “Round three, let’s do it!”

The ref dropped his hand and Hera toe-tapped her way to the center but paused and extended a glove out to be bumped. Diamond was shocked. After the malice Hera had spouted before and during the match, she was offering a sign of respect? Maybe. More like Hera was apologizing for the illegal strike. The glove was an offering of good faith.

Diamond came forward, eyes locked with the Queen of the Gods and tapped her glove solidly with her lead hand.

“Unintentional, Tiara. I didn’t mean to throw it so late. I’m going to take you out but not like that,” Farnese said and put her hands up in the Muay Thai stance, left out and up like a cobra preparing to strike, and the right, power hand cupped around her right eyebrow. Her left foot tapped up and down.

“I thought you’d take the easy out and get me disqualified.”

“I don’t win like that, Hera. Whatever happened last time, it won’t happen again. Now shut up and let’s settle things here,” Diamond replied.

Farnese Hera grinned, “No decisions. One of us goes to sleep. Just like I like it.” She reached out a glove again in a show of respect.

“One of us wakes up as a contender,” Diamond agreed. Once more, she tapped the offered hand.

“Ladies, stop congratulating each other and fight,” Stone Soufflé warned.

Hera’s lead leg cracked forward just as Diamond expected. She had seen enough of the blitkrieg leg strike and was determined to put an end to it before it reduced her leg to rubbish.
Turning her knee outward with the speed of a mongoose, Hera’s shin met Diamond’s and both winced as the bones smacked into each other with terrible force. Diamond grinned, her purple mouthpiece baring at the bigger fighter. Taking the shot to the shin hurt, but it hurt Hera more.

The fighters danced with each other, rolling, feinting, and pumping exploratory hands forward to gauge distance. Diamond was hurting but Hera had wasted a lot of energy trying to finish her so their speed was roughly similar. Diamond stood heavy on her back foot, lending power to her strikes but slowing her forward movement. She was focused on countering Hera when the somewhat lumbering fighter overcommitted. Diamond had seen the lead jab more than she wanted, had felt it even more, but each time was a data download and the file was nearly complete.

Hera came forward again, a push kick caught Diamond squarely in the chest and forced her back a couple steps. Following up, Hera changed levels, tucking her body low and diving forward for Diamond’s thighs.

Remembering the brutal uppercut that had followed the false takedown attempt in the first, Diamond didn’t sprawl, the best defense for takedowns, and chose to fall back to the cage where she pushed her weight back to the fence and spread her legs out in a wide stance. She pushed down on Hera’s head, flattening the red mohawk, and forcing Farnese to carry some of her weight.

Hera’s head was to the right of Diamond’s body and the shoulder below was tightly pressed into her thigh. She could feel Farnese’s hands working their way up each of her thighs, searching for one another behind and just under Diamond’s rump. If they locked, Diamond would find herself on the mat very soon.

Crouching to make some space, Diamond dug her right hand down her hip and beneath the more weakly pressed shoulder of the Queen of the Gods. Once her hand came out below the armpit in an underhook, Diamond pushed her other arm across the top and grabbed it with the lower hand, twisting both her arms up and forcing Hera’s arm up and out from behind her where it sought to lock.

Diamond rolled out from the cage, forcing Hera back into it with the underhook. She wanted no part of Hera against the cage, not even when she had an advantageous position. The bigger fighter was drilled far better in clinch fighting thanks to her Muay Thai dominant style.

In one motion, Diamond released the hook, stepped back, and fired a vicious right straight that came just above a break elbow thrown by Hera. It landed solidly on Hera’s forehead and the cut near where her hairline would be if it wasn’t shaved opened up. A quick left jab followed after Hera’s loaded elbow carried her forward.

Dancing back a step, Diamond took the center and Farnese chased, pressuring her. That was Hera’s style, pressuring Muay Thai supplemented with incredible BJJ. It was formidable and had wrecked opponents in the past but it wasn’t unbeatable.

Hera’s jab flew forward but Diamond recognized it was masking the leg kick. She tucked her chin and rotated her head so the light punch landed on her right cheek, protecting the damaged side of her face. She twisted her knee out and a bolt of pain shot up her shin as the hard, calloused bone of Hera slammed against it. Hera retrieved the leg but dipped as it came under her. The collision had hurt Hera’s power leg.

The leg kicks would stop.

Diamond ducked forward as Hera blasted a head kick off of the same leg, buying a little time and trying to hide the sudden stability loss with offense. The kick landed on her shoulder but did no damage as Diamond rolled forward with the kick and launched a savage uppercut that caught Hera’s chin, snapping her jaws together. It was a blow that lesser women would have fallen from but Hera’s harrowing gaze remained fixed, clear, and unphased on Diamond.

Neither broke their unblinking stare as Diamond hammered a short left body shot followed by a right into Hera’s ribs. Diamond shifted back as Hera attempted to clinch in the Thai style. She waited, bouncing back and forth on the balls of her feet, baiting out the next attack from Hera.

Again Farnese came forward, a front push kick leading that failed to connect as Diamond circled. Farnese blocked a retaliatory right hand and cut Diamond’s motion by hopping to the side, cutting the cage off. She ducked and brought a low jab into Diamond’s abdomen, setting up a right hand but dismissing it, expecting a hook that did not come.

Rotating away from Hera, Diamond observed that Hera ducked and powered forward when she wanted to get inside. It was the same movement that led her double leg takedown attempts. A nasty idea crossed her mind and she bounced to the end of her range, snapping off a quick double jab and feinting the right hand.

Because of her boxing stance, Diamond had a slight reach advantage. They actually had the same reach but the more squared kickboxing stance reduced the distance of Hera’s jabbing fist. If only by an inch, Diamond would play on her advantage and lay the trap much like Hera’s leg kicks had baited the head kick late in round two.

Becoming more offensive, Diamond fired single jabs with each step of her dance, pistoning her lead arm forward. Hera took the first one cleanly but blocked those that followed. That was fine, get her thinking about the distance. Frustrate her.

Hera came forward suddenly, the time wasn’t right for Diamond yet and she bounded away on the balls of her feet. She took a left to the chin and a flashing right body kick slapped into her ribs but movement subsidized any damage despite the impressive, whip-like crack of Hera’s toes against her flesh.

She reset and launched another series of jabs, mixing a straight right hand in as the first two strikes pumped into Hera’s cheek. Blood from the open cut on her forehead spilled down into the eye below. Hera wiped at it, clearing her vision from the flow of blood. Diamond tossed another jab into it and Hera attempted to catch Diamond leaning forward with a wide, powerful left hook but the Rich girl slipped it easily.

Diamond had the advantage of speed and her fists were more intelligent than Hera’s. She was finding a rhythm and that was good. Farnese was moving in, catching quick left hands and had little answer without that devastating leg kick. Her legs were still in play but her primary offensive weapon was neutralized. Diamond could see the scowl on Hera’s face and recognized that she was growing increasingly frustrated. Even if the woman was tough enough to eat the simple, light punch, she didn’t enjoy it and was losing the round. She just needed a little push.

Diamond kept light on her feet, her lead leg was numb around the calf but that meant it no longer hurt and it wasn’t giving out despite the heavy damage it had absorbed. In and out, Diamond went high and low with jabs, sometimes mixing in a right hand. Hera was retaliating with short punches but Diamond's distance management made them miss. She was only in range when her right lashed out but each time she was out of danger when Hera’s strikes came.

Diamond stepped in and Hera, flustered, threw another leg kick. Diamond turned her knee out and their shins crashed together again. This time Hera couldn’t mask the damage and she nearly fell when the weight shifted onto her back leg.

A grin opened Diamond’s mouth wide and she pointed at the damaged leg. Hera snarled and turned her middle finger up. That’s what she wanted. Get her mad, making mistakes. bait her to charge forward again to get inside the rangey jab.

Hera pivoted her hips and launched a high kick but the motion was slower than before and Diamond rocked back on her heels to avoid it. She reached forward and popped a jab into Hera’s eye and a right to the body that resounded with a hollow thump. Once more, she was out as Hera threw a left hook that whiffed half a foot wide.

“Still want to do this on the feet?” Diamond smirked and Hera stepped forward with another push kick that only caught air as Diamond danced around it.

The clock read one minute as Diamond glimpsed it. She was winning this round unless something big caught her. Something big was what Hera wanted. She was a powerful woman with long, thick legs. Her biceps were monstrous in comparison to Diamond’s and she wondered what Hera must weigh right now. It was at least five pounds heavier than her. Even if she weren’t as fist focused as Diamond, the power in her hands was enough to knock out anyone in the division.

Diamond could lead the bull but she had to be careful of those horns; she had already tasted Hera’s strength once and it had made her forget where she was.

Another jab landed as Hera pressured and Diamond moved away. She was fighting going backward or angling so there wasn’t much weight behind the punches but Hera’s face was reddening from the repeated love taps. Hera pressured, Diamond moved and poked her left fist forward again. Hera went for the body and Diamond traded the shot to land a right hand into Farnese’s forehead.

Hera’s eyes shimmered wildly and she snorted angrily. It wasn’t often that she found herself losing a stand-up fight. Diamond knew Hera wanted to knock her out and was refusing to go for another takedown. Irritating her was forcing the larger woman to fight the way Diamond wanted.

Almost there…

“Messing you up, Hera. I thought you wanted to take my belt?” Diamond emphasized the word ‘my’ and gave as smug a smile as she could.

Hera’s eyes went red and she dropped to one knee as she came forward. It wasn’t a takedown attempt, it was a feint into that horrible uppercut again and Diamond knew it was coming. Farnese had taken the bait and the steel jaws of the trap began to slam together as Diamond reached out to place both hands on the back of the Queen of the Gods’ head.

Farnese turned her hip forward and came up from the fake double leg, her right fist was loaded with everything she had. It was meant to tear Diamond’s smirking head from her neck but something was wrong. Diamond wasn’t sprawling, pushing down on her head and trying to force Hera to the mat with her body weight.

Diamond was leaving the canvas. The back knee came forward and angled up while her hands pulled the back of Farnese’s head forward and down. The jaws of the trap had sprung and slammed home as the flying knee crushed Hera’s nose with a nauseating crack.

Farnese Hera’s head jerked back like a slingshot and the force of the blow knocked her backward on legs that bowed and struck out in odd, awkward directions. She couldn’t maintain balance and fell onto her butt hard. Blood spewed from her nostrils and what was left of her nasal bone had pulverized and disseminated around the nasal cavity. One disgusting fragment was lodged half an inch beneath her eye and humped the flesh above it.

Diamond pounced, dashing forward and falling upon the injured Queen of the Gods. Going to the ground was usually a poor strategy with Hera but the woman was severely hurt. Diamond stepped over one leg, taking half guard. She tried to step her other leg over the knee to place on the opposite side but Hera wasn’t gone yet.

Farnese denied the transition but took a series of rights and lefts, head jerking from the onslaught as she fought to remain conscious. Blood poured from her shattered nose and each blow sprayed a line of crimson to the mat below.

Hera pressed her head into Diamond’s chest, arms wrapped behind her back and locked so that Diamond couldn’t land heavy shots from top position.

The blocks sounded the ten second warning and Diamond fell forward, digging her hand into the armpit of the grounded woman, trying to pry her face from her body so she could land more ground and pound. This was her best chance. She had Hera injured but time was running out.

Hera clung like a boa constrictor, even injured her grip was incredibly strong. Diamond worked her hand inside the arm and found space, prying the arm loose. She raised her right hand like a hammer and prepared to smash Hera’s busted nose again but the woman spun quickly, bringing the left hand across and wrapping Diamond’s underhooked arm, hands gripping and rolling to the side, controlling Diamond’s appendage.

The beast below was hurt but still dangerous. Even injured as Hera was, Diamond was always in danger on the ground. She had chased a finish but underestimated her opponent. Farnese twisted Diamond’s arm back and rolled with it into a right angle. She was attacking a kimura lock despite the damage and it was going deep.

Diamond’s elbow, humerus, and shoulder screamed as the joint lock bent her arm into an upside down ‘L’ shape. It was deep but wasn’t completely in yet. Diamond smashed with her free hand, crashing it into Farnese’s cranium.Farnese’s face was a mask of blood.

The bell rang and Stone Soufflé stepped in quickly, “Stop!”

Farnese released the hold and stared into Diamond, “Had you, Rich girl. I was taking that arm as a trophy.”

“Don’t blow your nose, Hera,” Diamond retorted, still resting on top of the battered woman. “They’ll stop the fight if your eyes swell shut and I’m not done with you, yet.”

Diamond rolled to her feet and stood before Hera as she rose. Farnese pressed forward, bumping chest to chest with Diamond. They glowered at one another, trying to intimidate, trying to break, and trying to prove that neither were as hurt as they seemed.

“You can’t hurt me with your pathetic strength, Tiara. I’ll break you next round.”

“Tell that to your face, hairdo!”

Stone Soufflé pushed between the two of them. “Corners, ladies! Now!” Neither turned away, they made their corners stepping backwards. Only when their respective cornermen blocked line of sight to one another did they blink.

Hera had been hurt, Diamond knew. But, Farnese Hera, the Queen of the Gods, was far from finished.

Round Four

“That was your round! Good work. Stick and move, make her come to you,” Flicker Jab coached, kneeled before Diamond Tiara. “Protect that cheek and keep her at range. Make her solve that puzzle but keep aware of her on the ground. If that round was ten seconds longer she may have made you tap. Don’t chase the finish, let it happen naturally.”

Diamond couldn’t feel the bag of ice against her calf that Dempsey Roll used to reduce the hematoma standing a full inch from the muscle. She could feel the frigid enswell pressing into the swelling around her cheek and eye but it was not providing much relief.

“You’ve limited her attack, Diamond. She won’t attack your legs again, and she’ll be afraid to go for a takedown low. I don’t blame her, that’s the ugliest broken nose I’ve ever seen and I’ve seen quite a few in my day.” Flicker Jab stared into the cerulean pools of Diamond’s eyes and smiled.

“She’s mad, Flick. She’s going to make mistakes,” Diamond smiled back.

“She’s scared, Diamond. You hurt her! You took her to a place she’s never been. Good use of the mental game but, remember, she’s a professional.” Flick was excited, Diamond could hear it in his voice. He was speaking quickly, trying to share as much insight as he could in the brief time between rounds. “Keep doing what you are doing but be ready if she puts the pieces of the puzzle together. She’s going to bring the fight inside. She’s going to want to get you against the cage where her clinch work is superior because you’ve taken away the open striking and takedowns in the middle.

Diamond sipped at the bottle of cool, refreshing water in her hand and looked over Flick’s shoulder. Hera was casting at her a petrifying gaze that Medusa would be proud of. Diamond reflected the stare, eager to get back to the fight.

“Minute’s out!” Stone Soufflé stated and the cornermen exited the octagon quickly. Diamond and Farnese Hera took to the starting points and glowered at one another, each hopping and ready to continue the fight.

“Are you ready?” Hera nodded, blood already dripping from her busted nose. Her cutman had worked diligently to clear the crushed nasal cavity and stem the flow of life but there was only so much one could do with such a gruesome injury. Her face was flat now, just little humps of swollen meat where her nose used to be.

“Are you Ready?” Diamond popped her gloves together. Her left cheek stuck out sorely from the fractured orbital bone beneath and part of her eye refused to open as fully as it had in round one. The laceration below the bone hadn’t reopened in the previous round but a solitary punch would get the blood moving again.

“Round four, ladies. Fight!”

Hera charged forward, not wanting to let Diamond take the center. For her trouble, she earned a quick, stolid jab but also pressed Diamond back, racking her body with a sinister left hook.

Diamond, surprised by the quickness, used her footwork to try and rotate out but her leg was halted midstep as Hera wrapped her upper body with both arms and stepped in, placing her leg directly behind Diamond’s weight bearing rear leg. A judo trip. Diamond shifted but the big woman was all over her, forcing her weight forward and pushing Diamond back into the tripping limb.

They fell to the mat, Hera stepping over to attempt full mount but Diamond was fast and pushed up with the heels of her hands, scooting the few feet to the fence and placing her back firmly upon it.

Farnese hadn’t been the reigning champion of the division for six fights by being stupid. Diamond may have stuck fear in her belly with the flying knee but she was still tricky. No, she wouldn’t go for the double or single leg takedowns and Diamond was certain the fake into an uppercut was buried, but Hera still had tricks to bring the fight to the canvas that didn’t involve ducking. The judo trip was performed while standing tall and coming forward, safely out of danger of a leaping knee attack.

Hera hugged Diamond tightly, crawling up her waist like a spider, wrapping Diamond’s legs tightly with her own like cocooning a fly. Diamond kept her arms free and pushed down on the back of Hera’s head, forcing the former champ to press into her abdomen.

Hera was going to try and work her to the mat, flatten her out. Once there, either big shots or submissions would come. Diamond was safe as long as she stayed upright and kept Farnese lower than her.

One, two, three quick taps from Diamond into the side of Hera’s head came but there was no leverage or weight in the punches. They were to distract the woman from Diamond planting her left hand to adjust her balance because, already, Hera was trying to turn her, pull her down.

Heavy breathing came from the challenger as she dug her shoulder painfully into Diamond’s gut and twisted, wrenching Diamond’s upper body to the side. Diamond tapped her with several more minor punches and scooted herself upright again. She pulled with her legs, trying to free them from between Hera’s powerful thighs but the wrestler had already crossed her ankles beneath Diamond’s calves, cinching her legs together like a zip tie.

Hera’s right hand found Diamond’s left, posted wrist and locked around it, pulling it forward so Diamond couldn’t use it to maintain balance. Once more she shifted and shouldered Diamond sideways. The champion’s right hand came down, pressing to the mat and holding off the attempt again but Hera’s left hand gripped the wrist. Now, with both legs and both hands grappled, Diamond would find it difficult to stay upright.

Another attempt, Diamond rolled to the side and activated her core muscles, abdominals, trapezius, and an assortment of other muscles strained and fought to stay in a seated position, but the strength and position of Hera were insurmountable in her hobbled state. Diamond’s shoulder hit the canvas and Hera quickly rolled her head to the opposite shoulder, pressing the top of her cranium into Diamond’s neck.

Farnese worked her head, trying to separate Diamond’s back and higher shoulder from the cage. She released the right hand and pumped two short but powerful punches into the right side of Diamond’s head. The punches weren’t strong enough to debilitate the Rich girl but they hurt and forced her to cover up with the released right hand. It also made her think about the next strikes and not Hera’s maneuvering to get her away from the fence where her BJJ could go to work.

Three more strikes followed, all blocked by the outstretched hand protecting her face, but Diamond’s back slipped from the fence as Hera worked her head deeper between the shoulder and cage. Diamond posted up on her elbow but another volley of short strikes caused her to drop back to the canvas, even more ground lost.

Diamond found herself flat on her back.

Four minutes left in the round. That was far too much time for Farnese to work with and Diamond knew it. She had been in this position for two full rounds in their first fight and she couldn’t afford to lose any remaining rounds. She was in real trouble. She could probably fight off submission attempts for the remainder of the round but she would lose it via control.

Somehow, she had to get back to her feet. And soon.

Hera’a base shifted from top mount, her feet hooked under Diamond’s thighs and locked, allowing her to put all of her weight down on the smaller woman, crushing her and making her carry extra weight. It also allowed for her to begin working for position, submissions, or control. Diamond didn’t panic and even under Farnese’s weight she was able to breathe comfortably.

Hera balanced atop Diamond, wrapping one arm behind her head. Diamond framed Hera’s abdomen with her left arm and kept her elbow in tight, afraid to bring her arms up where the BJJ brown belt could begin isolating an arm in preparation for an arm bar joint lock.

Hera breathed heavily on top of Diamond. “You’re what? A purple belt now? Not a very good one, I can tell you that.”

“Afraid to stand and bang with me? Let me up, I thought you wanted to put me to sleep,” Diamond retorted.

“I’ll crush your energy from here, thanks. You want to stand? Get me off of you.” Hera pushed with her hips, raising her upper body and pressing her full weight down into Diamond’s chest.

Now Diamond was not having such an easy time breathing. She remained calm, which helped, but her breaths were shallow. She had her heels planted firmly into the mat but the hooked leg position Farnese held made it impossible for Diamond to buck her hips up and force Hera to one side. She was trapped beneath her but Hera was also just resting. The ref wouldn’t like that.

As if on cue, Stone Soufflé warned Hera, “Work, Hera. Don’t just sit there.”

Hera was displeased but maintained the crushing position.

“You … just … gonna sit there? That how you want to win? Laying… on top?” Diamond taunted.

The crowd began to boo at the inactivity. It had been nearly a minute since Diamond had hit the cage wall and very little had taken place. Crowds, generally, preferred striking to wrestling or BJJ and most fans didn’t understand the subtleties, the small movements that occurred in a tight, sharp wrestling match. They thought it was boring when one fighter laid on top of another but it was a strategy. Farnese was wearing on Diamond, testing her cardio. She wanted to slow Diamond down, weaken her before attempting a submission.

Another ten seconds passed by.

“Come on, work or I’ll stand it up,” the ref warned again.

Suddenly Hera planted her knees and released the hooks under Diamond’s thighs, posturing up high on Diamond’s lower abdomen. Her fists came up quickly and she tightened her shoulder blades together, bringing her fists down one after another in thunderous mounted blows.

Diamond hadn’t expected that and the first punch nailed her damaged orbital. It howled in blistering pain that worked all the way around the back of her head. The cut was like a beer bottle blasted by a high powered rifle and blood exploded from the wound, smattering the side of Diamond’s face and spattering the canvas. The second shot slipped just over Diamond’s raising hands and the full power of the punch mashed Diamond’s opposite cheek between fist and canvas.

Her hands came up defensively and three more powerful blows landed upon them. Hera had been resting to gather strength before bringing down staggering, hammering power. Diamond couldn’t remain in this position and take shots. If she just covered up for too long the ref would stop the fight. Especially after the first round where she had covered up almost to the point of stoppage.

Where could she go? If she rolled over to avoid the strikes, she’d be giving up her back to a far too dangerous practitioner of BJJ; it would be a death sentence. Hera was postured up tall, if Diamond could break her balance with her hips and legs, she may be able to buy time or even escape if things went well. Maybe a hip escape if she could work her knee into Hera’s thigh and push that leg away.

It didn’t matter, the raining blows ceased all at once and the Queen of the Gods shifted her weight forward in an instant. Her right knee came off the ground as her left slid below and around Diamond’s right shoulder. The blows caused damage but they also made Diamond pull her arms high in defense, where Hera could attack an arm bar. She was slick and Diamond recognized the submission attempt transitioning too late to stop it.

Hera’s hands locked around Diamond’s wrist in a baseball bat grip, one above the other from opposite directions. Arching her hips, Farnese pulled back hard on the arm just as Diamond tried to twist it to the side where the lock would not be dangerous, but it was too late. Hera’s legs trapped Diamond across the face and over her chest, legs each on one side of the attacked arm. She pulled the arm back hard and Diamond felt it go stiff.

The lock was in. Diamond would have to tap out or her arm would break. She could feel the tendons stretching, the bones creaking. Her right arm was hyperextending at the elbow and the pain was excruciating. She was done. Her fight was over, for nothing. She had battled through her own doubts, the psychological abuse of her father, and the damage Hera had put on her only to be dismissed so easily.

Something like that had happened before.

Diamond had graduated college at 22 years old. She had gone into business because her father was adamant that no woman could ever be a businessman. Her graduation ceremony had been attended by her family out of necessity despite Filthy having no love for the ‘liberal’ college Diamond had attended.

Still, he had shown up for the graduation ceremony. When Diamond’s name was announced as well as her field of study, she strode out across the stage and accepted the diploma with pride. She paused, looking her father in the eye and grinning. She had attained the same degree that he had, could apply her knowledge to the family business and show him what a bright, intelligent woman like her was capable of. He had clapped politely but there was no joy in his eyes as he sat in the first row of the audience.

Instead of going out to celebrate with the few friends she had made, Diamond chose to ride home with her mother and father in the family limousine. Her mom was out of the world, having taken a cocktail of prescription medication along with a cocktail of vodka and cranberry juice almost as soon as they had entered the vehicle. Judging from her vacant stare at the ceremony, she hadn’t been completely sober then either.

Diamond smirked at Filthy. “Maybe we could hang my tassel from the rear view mirror, Daddy?”

Filthy scoffed at the notion and watched the hordes of proud parents and children through the window. Traffic was bad on campus and they were stuck in a long line of joyous families. “I’d rather die, Diamond, than have this left-winged school’s colors adorning my limousine.”

He was such a sore loser. Diamond had known all along that he would never allow such a thing but it was her day, her victory, and she wanted to grind it a little deeper into the old man. She smirked happily.

“I guess I’ll just have to frame my diploma in my office.”

“What office?” Filthy asked, finding more amusement with the outside world than his daughter.

“Weren’t you saying that one of our subsidiary companies just had an opening after the year end financials came back in the red?” Filthy had fired one of the district managers of his equipment selling franchises. “Seems like a good place for me to show you how good of a businesswoman I can be.” Diamond had emphasized ‘woman’ strongly. Sharpening the blade of her tongue had long become a skill while talking to Filthy. She never said anything out of turn, but the choice of wording, the embellishment of certain words were deliberate, infuriating decisions.

“Rich Equipment Sales does have an opening, Diamond. How astute of you to notice. Do you think you could handle the position?” Filthy remained looking through the darkly tinted window.

“If a drunk could run it for the last five years, I can definitely make it profitable again, Daddy.” Diamond watched Filthy closely. She was his daughter. He would want her to fail so he could rub it in her face. The job would be hers and she would work tirelessly to make the business strong again. She’d have to give up some things, things she loved, but it would be worth it to earn the respect of her father. If not for herself, for women everywhere.

“I’d sooner let a drunk old man run it into the ground than hand it over to a stupid little girl like you, Diamond.” He faced her now, watching the words sink into his daughter. She was stunned. She thought she knew him well enough to… to play him a fool.

“I… I just graduated with the same degree you did, Dad! I’m obviously not stupid!”

Filthy burst out laughing, a thick, tobacco-like laugh that burned at both ends. There was no mirth to it, just spite and malice. “Maybe we have the same degree but not from the same school. This place would give a doctorate to a dog if the owner paid for it. Do you really expect me to hold that piece of paper of yours, that I paid for, to the same level as mine?”

“I was valedictorian of my class. It means a lot. I studied my butt off to earn this ‘piece of paper’!” She wanted to hit him. Her whole life for four years had been the gym and her room, studying. She hadn’t gone out with friends but thrice since she had been accepted. She had found a boyfriend, a nice man studying physical therapy, but had grown distant and lost him to her pursuit of knowledge, physical training, and a severe lack of time. He just didn’t fit into her schedule.

She had sacrificed almost everything for the bachelor’s degree. The closest thing she had to a steady relationship was getting punched in the face a few times a year in the cage!

She could knock him out. Left shovel hook to pop his chin up, right straight on the button of his chin. Blam, switch him off like a light. She resisted but it was difficult.

“That’s the problem, Diamond. You’re stupid. Do you think I allowed you, paid for you, to come to this sad excuse of a university to get a degree? Of course not.” He stared her straight in the eyes, his disappointment paramount.

“I… I…,” she stammered, not knowing what to say.

“I let you come here because even in a pitiful place like this there might be a boy or two that shows promise. Someone to take over their family’s business, become something. Someone with influence who might take you in as their wife. God bless the fool who marries you.”

“You… just wanted me to find a boy?” Sometimes she wondered how he could continue to shock her with his prejudice and old world thoughts.

“I knew it was a longshot. I’ve seen your last three fights, Diamond. If you’re a dyke, just come out and say it already. Obviously you missed the point of coming to college and have no interest in men. Your mother earned her MRS degree when she met me. Do you think Spoiled,” he indicated the aging woman drooling on her fancy dress across from him, “... went to college to study anything? Hell no she didn’t, and she didn’t need to. She found me.”

Diamond tasted blood as she ground her lip between her teeth. “I’m … I’m not gay, Dad! I thought this was… I wanted to…” Rage filled her mind but so did pain. Once more, Filthy Rich had denigrated her. Made her small. “Driver! Stop the car!”

She had been so irate that she hadn’t noticed the car was still motionless, waiting for its turn to move. She flung the door open and slammed it hard behind her. She couldn’t be in the same vehicle as that man who hated her for being who she was. For being a woman.

If she were a son, she knew, he would love her. He would have been at all of her fights, cheered as she knocked out opponents with brash, untamed male virility. Good genes, he would say as he bragged to his cronies. He would have given her not just a district but a whole company to manage.

Instead he ground her to the floor. Pulled her arm back into a tight, breaking bar, and yanked with all his might.

Diamond growled, she wasn’t going to tap. She would find a way out or she would let the bones of her arm snap. She obstinately refused to yield.

She planted her foot and turned into the submission, reaching her free arm over and stretching until her hands clasped. Her upper body strength wasn’t enough as she pulled on the rigid, burning arm. Diamond threw her foot out quickly, missing the first attempt but getting the ball of her foot inside the Hera’s elbow on the second. Kicking hard to break the grip, she rotated and pulled with all of her might to free her arm.

The extra strength of the leg winched Farnese’s grip loose and Diamond’s arm snapped up and loose of the armbar. The crowd exploded with cheers as the finish was suddenly, unexpectedly thwarted.

Diamond rolled to her feet in the same movement and danced out to the center of the octagon, she threw a quick jab to test the arm and found it uninjured. She motioned for Hera to stand up.

Hera’s mouth hung open. The submission had been deep, there should have been no escape from it! The belt was firmly in her grasp and had been pried away by the Rich girl once more. She cussed to herself and stood up, shaking her head.

Diamond flicked her eyes to the clock, two minutes left in the round. She had to do something to stand out or it would cost her the fight. Almost being finished and nearly three minutes of control weighed heavily in Hera’s favor.

Hera came forward once more, the judo trip had been very successful and, even if Diamond expected it, she was confident in her abilities. Standing tall, she moved, trying to wrap Diamond’s upper half.

Rolling into Hera’s power side was dangerous but Diamond couldn’t afford to get wrapped up again. She fired off a quick jab that made the dangerous woman blink as it connected with the flap of cartilage and skin that claimed to be a nose before rolling out at an angle to Hera’s right and away from the grappler.

Nodding in affirmation of the jab, Hera grinned and spit a mouthful of blood that had run down the back of her throat to the streaked and dotted canvas. Between her dripping nose and Diamond’s ripped cheek, much of their life force lay ceremoniously shed about the mat.

Hera hesitated, the nose must have been bothering her a lot more than she let on. A simple jab had stalled the bigger woman and now she was waiting for Diamond to come forward. Diamond didn’t know if she were coasting, knowing she was ahead in the round, or stinging from the strike. What was certain was that Diamond had not pressured her yet in the fight. Hera had led the dance and eaten some severe counters. Maybe she wanted to make Diamond come to her.

Either way, Diamond’s time was fleeting by with each second. A minute thirty on the clock.

Diamond took action, leaping in with a quick jab that Hera blocked with her lead hand. Afraid of committing openly to strikes, Diamond had to protect herself from a takedown. When her lead leg carried weight, it would be ripe for a takedown attempt. The knee had ended offensive double legs but not defensive, counter wrestling.

Out lashed another exploratory jab that was similarly batted away. Diamond moved at an angle and went low with a leg kick that landed on Hera’s forward appendage. She hadn’t countered, and Diamond worried she was gathering intelligence on the strikes, timing them in order to snatch a leg and drive her to the mat or cage. Without Hera’s forward pressure, Diamond was starting over, uneducated.

A body jab landed and Diamond chased after it with a right hand, barely jerking her head aside from a fast front kick counter. She bounced back to her reset position before stepping forward, faking a leg kick, and Hera reacted, moving to intercept the kick that didn’t come with her body in a trap. She was looking to counter wrestle.

A minute on the clock and Diamond couldn’t do more than toss single, weak punches. Each one was data Hera was downloading. Diamond grinned and pushed another lead left, blocked.
She tossed it again, blocked. The same jab again, Hera saw it coming and parried it, this time moving her hand in preparation to catch the wrist.

Diamond released a feint, careful not to put much weight in her forward leg. Hera tried to catch the punch she thought was coming and Diamond knew the trap was baited again.

45 seconds.

Diamond remembered the conversation in the limousine. She had wanted to hit her father so badly, to shut him up. To make him respect her even if it was by physical force. She’d never actually strike her father, but the tactic to knock him out was sound.

And it would work against anyone.

Stepping forward and planting her lead foot heavily, transferring as much weight as she could to supercharge the strike, Diamond unloaded the bait.

Hera, having seen the jab enough to counter it by grabbing the wrist, moved to catch the straight, high punch but found something different. Much lower than a jab, the shovel hook was a combination of uppercut, a strike from below rising up, and a hook, a widely arcing powerful blow that came from the side.

The shovel hook came at an angle from below, arcing more up than out and careening below Hera’s grappling lead hand. It passed the elbow, flying from below like a fighter jet and caught the underside of Hera’s chin. It was a heavy shot, one that knocked the Queen of the Gods’ chin upward, undefended.

The lunging right straight that followed, targeting the point of the chin, landed flush and pivoted Hera’s chin down back to mash against her chest. The brain in her head shot forward and ricocheted violently off the skull. More importantly, the nerve clusters in the jaw lit up like Christmas trees and the neurological overload was almost too much for the woman to handle.

Hera’s knees buckled and she fell to the canvas flat on her back. The ref moved instantly to gauge the fighter’s reaction. Farnese was quick to bring her hands and knees up in a BJJ guard position, challenging Diamond to come to the mat but also showing that she was still in the fight. But, her eyes lolled and struggled to focus on Diamond. The shovel hook, right straight combo had nearly been the end of the Queen of the Gods.

The wooden blocks clapped, ten seconds left.

“Come here, Tiara. Come get me, you brat!” Hera exclaimed, taunting Diamond and buying time to recover from the head trauma. The words were solid but she still couldn’t focus her eyes and tears ran down her cheeks. She wasn’t crying, the nerves in her head were sputtering, sending ridiculous signals that triggered the reaction.

“Stand up, Hera. You said you wanted it on the feet,” Diamond replied. She wanted more than anything to finish this fight, to become a thunderstorm of strikes that would finish Farnese Hera and cement her place as champion but, as she had already discovered, an injured Hera was still too dangerous to hit the mat with.

The bell rang and the ref moved between the fighters. “Stop!”

Diamond didn’t need to try and enforce her will on Hera with maneuvering or a show of will this time. The Queen of the Gods had fallen for the second time in her career in back to back rounds against Diamond’s superior striking. Even if she had almost been finished by the arm bar, strikes weighed more heavily and the knockdown superseded the near submission. Diamond had won that round.

She only needed the last round to win the match via decision but she didn’t want to win in that method. She wanted a knockout. A stamp that could not be contested.

One round, five minutes. Diamond was going to put everything remaining in her gas tank into five minutes of striking Hell on Farnese. She would claim the title by finishing her with her elite boxing.

Author's Note

For those of you wondering, an MRS degree is a derogatory term for women who go to college expressly for the purpose of finding a rich guy to marry. MRS, Mrs. degree.

Round Five

“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.”

The Decision

The octagon was a buzz of Canterlot athletics commissioners, photographers, CFC staff, and the cornermen of both fighters. Diamond had her hands above the cage, panting and resting as Dempsey Roll iced the swollen inner tube of blood wrapping the calf of her left leg. She could hardly put weight on it, the leg kicks of Hera had ruined it. Her body was a canvas Hera had painted with pain. The fight was over but Diamond’s guts were knotted and wiggling.

“Ti, that was … it was insane. You’re so talented and durable,” Dempsey remarked from below her friend and gym mate. “How do you feel about, you know, all the rumors, now?”

“Yeah. Left everything out there, Demp. Nobody can say the winner of this one didn’t deserve it.” Diamond rotated, pressing her back to the cage and looked across at Farnese. A cutman was working diligently on her nose, pushing a long handled cuetip deep into cranium with the vaseline/adrenaline mixture, trying to stem the bleeding.

Hera had her hands on her hips, eyes closed and bearing the uncomfortable swab. Her eyes popped open and Diamond shot her a thumbs up which she returned with a smile.

Diamond’s guts churned and she tongued the gash in her lip nervously. The judges were tallying their decision, soon it would be rendered, but it felt as if Diamond had waited ages. The suspense was too thick to cut with any knife and her belly roiled with worry worms as large as her intestines.

“Calm down, Diamond,” Flick interrupted Diamond’s focused thoughts. “They'll talk about this fight for decades. You’ve won a lot of fans tonight.”

Diamond nodded, trying not to worry about the decision. She looked up to the skybox but couldn’t see inside of it. Did Daddy watch the whole fight? Was he hoping she’d lose? She turned away, dismissing him. It didn’t matter what he wanted; she was her own person. He was just an old man still trying to sway the world with his wealth.

Spruce Buffer entered the octagon, the judges verdict was in. A wave of nervousness ran through Diamond’s gut as Stone Soufflé took the center of the octagon and beckoned both fighters to him. This was it. The decision.

Diamond stood one Soufflé’s left, Hera on his right. In each hand, he took the wrist of a fighter and waited for Spruce to call out the judges’ decisions.

Spruce wound up his reverberating, thick voice. “Let’s give a round of applause for these two spectacular strawweights!”

The crowd responded, cheering, whistling, applauding the event they had witnessed with unanimous excitement. Spruce waited for the crowd to simmer down before continuing, allowing the fighters one more moment of shared glory before the rendering of the decision. “Ladies and gentlemen, after five rounds, we go to the judges’ scorecards for a decision!”

Diamond closed her eyes, the tummy worms wriggled and rolled heavily inside her.

“Fidget scores the contest 47-46, Tiara!” Spruce’s timbre called out Diamond’s name and she breathed in deeply, recognizing a split decision had been made. Her skin tingled and she wanted to move but stood quietly, eyes clenched as she waited.

“Ramshackle Riot scores the contest 47-46, Hera!” The crowd, rising to the boiling point, began to make noise. Their excitement could barely be contained by the need for the final judge’s decision.

The worms were doing gymnastics in Diamond’s abdomen as they read Hera’s name. One more judge left. Air caught in her lungs and she held her breath, anticipation strangling her.

“And Simmer Sun scores the contest 47-46, …” Spruce let the numbers linger in space, building tension before the announcement.

And still… and still… please, and still....

“And new! Undisputed champion of the world, Farnese ‘Queen of the Gods’ Hera!”

Diamond felt broken inside. She nodded to herself and opened her eyes, bringing her hands together and joining the crowd’s eruption of applause for the woman who had defeated her. Farnese Hera had earned the victory, Diamond couldn’t deny. She had taken Diamond’s hardest shots and kept moving forward, refusing to go away the entire fight. Inside, Diamond knew they both deserved the title and the decision must have been agony to make, but watching the strawweight belt being wrapped around the waist of Hera while Stone Soufflé held her hand high in victory, Diamond’s spirit drained from her.

Her first loss. It was a bitter pill to swallow but she smiled lightly, proud of herself and the show she put on. She was proud of Hera, the true champion, and clapped her hands together in real appreciation.

The ref released Hera and she held both hands high, the gold belt reflecting brightly under the lights of the sporting arena. Farnese looked back to Diamond and quickly came close, grabbing Diamond’s arm and raising it high in her own. She pointed with her free hand to Diamond and demanded the crowd cheer her as well. The crowd, loving the sportsmanship, erupted once more in a volley of decibels loud enough to deafen Hera’s music playing over the speaker system of the arena.

Diamond cried a little. The fans who were booing her before the fight, who saw her as a cheater, were showing her great respect. Hera was showing her great respect. Smiling, she raised her other hand as well. It was a loss she could take. There was no dishonor in losing a fight like this.

The CFC’s ringside commentator came in and Diamond moved away so he could interview the champion. Flicker Jab and Dempsey Roll stood at the cage door, Diamond moved to exit but a hand caught her shoulder. Stone Soufflé motioned with his head. “They want to talk to you after Hera.”

The commentator held a microphone and moved close to Farnese Hera. “Hera, congratulations on your victory. How does it feel to have went toe to toe with the woman who took your belt and come out victorious?”

The mic moved to Hera and she grinned, speaking into the microphone. “This is my division! It always was and will be for a long time to come!” The crowd applauded and Hera waited for them to settle before continuing. “Diamond is a monster, man. She hits hard and her head is like a block of concrete. Hurts my hands just trying to chip away at her. Tough, man. Real tough. Beating someone like her is incredible because I really had to work for it. She improved so much from our first fight.”

The commentator took the mic back, “So there were a lot of rumors after the first fight of outside interference with the judges’ decision. How do you feel about that and did it cause you to worry about the decision coming out of the fifth round tonight?”

Hera chuckled and looked Diamond in the eyes from across the cage. “Fuck rumors. You can’t leave it to the judges, we all know that. Sure, it was a horse shit decision last time, we get those sometimes, but Diamond ain’t a cheater. She didn’t beat me last time, but, if I’m honest, I’m not sure I beat her tonight. The decision tonight was a real coin flip and she don’t have no quit in her. I won but I didn’t beat her.”

“Let’s look at some of your handiwork.” The overhead displays showed recaps of the fight, Diamond trapped against the cage, taking brutally powerful shots but not falling. “Now in the first, you had her hurt against the cage. Did you think the fight should have been stopped here because she took double digit unanswered blows.”

“Maybe they could have stopped it, I don’t know. She was covering up but most of those punches were blocked so I don’t know how hurt she was. She could have been letting me wear myself out. I smelled blood because I know the uppercut hurt her but she didn’t go down, just stood and absorbed. She also cut me at the end, so, no, I don’t think she was hurt too bad or the ref should have stopped the fight. She wasn’t out of the fight yet.”

Diamond grimaced at herself taking the flurry of blows. Even if most hadn’t connected, she had been legitimately unconscious for most of that sequence. Stubbornness had kept her on her feet, nothing more.

“Hera, enjoy your night. I don’t think anyone here can deny you are the 115 pound champion,” the commentator said and came to Diamond as Hera celebrated.

“Diamond Tiara, you came in here and put on a boxing clinic. It’s a shame a division can only have one champion because you weathered early storms and really brought the fight to Farnese in the later rounds. How do you feel about the decision?”

Diamond looked at the crowd and to her coach. She licked the split in her lip and leaned into the microphone. “Decision was made. Farnese got it and I can’t say she didn’t deserve it because she fought hard. She had me hurt in the first, made me look bad that first round. The second didn’t really go too much better for me. I finally started putting together something in the third and from there it was a really close, competitive fight. I thought I won the third and fourth but, I don’t know who won the fifth. We were both running on fumes and we hurt each other. It was close, really close. Farnese really brought it.”

The commentator nodded and brought the mic back. “That head kick at the end of the second round was an illegal strike and it looked like it really hurt you. Did that affect your performance?”

Diamond laughed softly. “Kicked some sense into me. Yeah, it hurt. I think I went out for a second or two but I don’t win like that. It was an accident and it woke me up. I looked a lot better after that so nobody can say I was compromised enough to quit.”

“There were a lot of rumors floating around that the judges had been bought after your first fight with Hera. How do you feel about that?”

Diamond swallowed hard and nodded gently. “I don’t know. I don’t think I won the first match so there’s probably something there, but I didn’t know anything about underhanded dealings. I went out, fought, and got a decision I didn’t think I earned. I don’t know more than that. That’s why I took the fight tonight against Hera. She deserved a chance to take the belt back and I wanted to show that I had, in fact, earned the belt.”

“Well, I don’t think anyone can argue that you are not worthy of having held the belt after tonight. Thank you, Diamond, and I can’t wait to see you competing again soon.”

Diamond nodded and joined her team. As she walked from the cage into the locker room, fans reached out for her, cheered for her, and Diamond reached back, clapping hands as she made her walk from the arena floor.

“You’re the best, Diamond. What you did tonight was historic. I don’t care what the judges said, you’re the champion,” Flick stated bluntly.

The entrance tunnel echoed the booming of the crowd as Diamond limped her way towards the locker room. She felt as though she had been through a meat grinder but she also felt good. The shock of losing her first match was gone because of the challenge she had faced. Not just Hera, but those racking her thoughts and heart as well. She smiled despite the v shaped slice in her lower lip. “You’re right,” Diamond stated, “I am a champion.”

Epilogue

Diamond stood at the door to her father’s office, one hand laying on the styled, overly-embellished knob. She had been released from Canterlot Community Hospital after an overnight stay for observation two days ago and had spent much of the time between recovering alone in her room.

She had received multiple notifications from her social media accounts but hadn’t worked up enough motivation to look at them. Her friends, the few she had, gym partners, and coach knew that Diamond spent time after each fight reflecting and allowing her body to repair from the damage it had taken. This time was different, she was dealing with her first loss.

In truth, the loss didn’t phase her. She had gained so much from it, had faced more than Farnese Hera in the octagon and had come out victorious in all matters important. Not that her first title defense wasn’t important, but the belt would come again. Already there were offers on the table to fight for the interim title in six months. Hera’s nose needed time to recalcify and she was under a nine month medical suspension. She wouldn’t be able to fight for almost a year if everything went perfectly and promoters couldn’t wait that long for a title bout.

The interim belt, if Diamond won it, would lead to the unification fight and the trilogy with Hera. That’s what sold seats, what built legends, and Diamond would be ready for that fight.

She watched her hand rest on the long handled knob and reaffirmed her will.

One way or another, she wouldn’t be distracted by her father ever again.

Diamond swung the rich, ornate door open and stepped into the dim light of the office. Tobacco smoke filled her lungs and the sickly sweet scent nearly made her choke. Across the room, in front of the windowed wall, sat Filthy Rich, head cocked to one side and pinning the deskphone between his ear and shoulder. He didn’t even look up as Diamond entered.

“Yeah, yeah… made a bundle on liquidating those assets we bought from Ramhorn’s company. We also have a buyer interested in the name. Despite being completely inept, he made fine products and we could license or sell the brand name.” Filthy was deep in conversation with some croney.

The dim office was rendered nearly black behind the designer shades Diamond wore. She folded her arms and struck an irritated stance. Filthy finally looked up from his conversation, waved her away, and rotated in his expensive leather chair, turning his back to her and looking out of the window wall to continue the phone call, dismissing her.

“Well, if we license the name, we’ll get a considerable yearly amount and, provided they build on the name, we could elevate the fees each year as we see fit.”

Diamond had had enough and strode across the room, grabbing the phone cord from the wall, Filthy always had been fixed to the old world and preferred to do business over a landline. With a quick tug, the phone went dead and Diamond let the cord dangle in her hand as Filthy spun about.

“Diamond! What is your problem? Do you have any idea how important that call…,” Filthy began, rising from his chair angrily.

“Shut up, Dad!” Diamond barked and leaned over the desk, one accusing finger striking like a whip towards the older man who, perplexed by the behavior, fell back into his seat. “I’m finished letting you hurt me! Do you understand?”

Filthy looked as if he were in a stupor. “Hurt you? Hurt YOU? After everything you’ve done in your life to make me look like a fool, you dare have the guile to come into my office and accuse me of hurting you?”

“Yes! You’ve never once been there for me! You’ve never supported me in what I want to do! All I’ve heard my entire life is how ‘girls shouldn’t’ or ‘girls can’t’. This isn’t the 16th century, Dad. I can do whatever a man can and I can do it better because I’m smart, I’m stubborn, and I’m determined!” Diamond’s pent-up aggression lashed out violently, each word sizzled and burned like a match head, a moment of intense heat broiling a hole in the space between them.

“You couldn’t win your last fight. As stupid as it is for you to get in a cage and fight, you can’t even win without my help. What did you get for it? Take off those ridiculous sunglasses,” Filthy pointed his words and worked them into her guts.

Diamond slowly pulled the glasses from her face, revealing the stretching blue and purple bruises that ran beneath both eyes. Her left orbital had been cleaned up in the hospital and the tiny fragments of broken bone removed. The eye was still shut, swollen closed. It looked gruesome. Diamond averted her eyes as she removed the glasses but brought her one working eye to meet her father’s gaze. She was momentarily silenced, felt naked and exposed without the dark mirrors hiding her.

“But, I should thank you. I won quite a bit of cash betting against you. I knew your hard head would keep you from getting knocked out. So, I guess you were good for something after all.” Filthy rubbed glass and salt into her injuries with his devilish tongue but Diamond held her temper and refused to let her emotions eschew her from the room. This would be a knock down drag out; one she refused to lose.

“Classy, Dad. Betting against your own daughter? But, you’ve never been much of a father, have you?” she retaliated.

“I gave you life, put you through school, gave you the finest clothes and anything else you could have wanted. I don’t remember you ever going hungry at night like the children of so many other ‘loving’ parents. Isn’t that what a father is supposed to do?” Filthy refused to back down, menacing her like she was a child.

“You never loved me, Dad,” Diamond stated bluntly. “I didn’t need the fancy clothes, the elitist programs you made me take, or anything else money was used to replace what I needed. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to tell me, ‘I love you, Diamond.’ That was all I have ever wanted or needed. Not tickets to shows, jewelry, or automatic reservations in snobby restaurants! Love’s free, Dad. It wouldn’t cost you a thing!”

Filthy shrunk in his chair, eyes glancing away. Diamond had hurt him, she’d seen the body language of a shook and rocked rival in the cage enough to recognize it. She pressed him as she would an injured opponent.

“Why, Dad? Tell me why! Because I’m a girl? If I was your son, would you have cared about me? Asked me about my day? Told me how proud you were of my accomplishments?” A tear slipped from her good eye. She had dreamed of this moment, of confronting her father and how good it would feel. It didn’t feel good. It hurt. She suppressed the emotions churning in her belly and leaned forward, demanding an answer.

“Diamond, you… you’re being very unlady-like,” Filthy was dodging the question.

“I’m not a lady! I’m just me: Diamond Tiara! Your only offspring! I am who I am, now answer me!” Diamond pinned him, mounted him with her will and prepared to land vicious, hateful blows.

“Yes, okay? I wanted a son, I got a daughter in some kind of grand cosmic joke! I… I don’t know anything about girls, Diamond. I was afraid of you. Afraid I’d screw you up if … if I tried to raise you the way I would raise a son,” the old man answered sheepishly. He looked small, afraid.

“What?” Diamond couldn’t process the answer. It just turned into anger and she bit it back. “All you had to do was … was show me attention and affection, Dad. Tell me I was worth something!”

Filthy frowned and looked sadly up at her, “Of course you are worth something, Diamond. You’re my girl.” Filthy’s eyes were hollow, looking inward.

“Of course that’s what you would say. It always comes back to you, doesn’t it? The whole world revolves around Filthy Rich,” she snapped.

“Not like that. Not that you are MY girl, because you’re my girl, you’re a part of me. You’re … Diamond, I’m not good with things like this. I don’t…,” Filthy’s head drooped to the mahogany desk and he paused, choosing his words.

“You think I don’t love you, Diamond Tiara?” He asked bluntly, a direct question that made Diamond scoff.

“Between telling me I’m nothing but a toy for a man, that I can’t do the same things a man can do, and ignoring me for my whole life, what other answer is there?” She replied tartly.

“Diamond…,” he turned a deep shade of red and found it difficult to meet her eyes. “I love you more than anything in my whole life.”

“You liar! Money is all you care about. You never had time for me, never wanted me around you.” She shifted, the words she longed to hear were acidic to her now.

Filthy nodded to himself and opened a desk drawer to retrieve a bottle of high end whiskey. He let it thump loudly against the polished, lacquered wood. He motioned for her to sit and laughed to himself when she remained standing, her face screwed up into a visage of indigo rage. Taking a pair of glasses from the desk, he poured each half full and offered Diamond one of them. When she didn’t accept, he quickly drank both of them in a liquid, smooth motion.

He then stood and walked to one of the giant bookshelves that lined his office to retrieve a worn album. The leather bound book was old and faded, the binding loose from use. It was the antithesis of everything neat and expensive in Filthy’s office. Bringing it to his desk and laying it down in front of Diamond, he stated, “Look in that, Diamond.”

As confused as curious, Diamond opened the ancient album. The cover felt flimsy to her touch as she flipped it open. Inside were a series of photographs. Filthy as a young boy with a much older man Diamond had never seen but could identify the likeness of features to her own and her father’s; it must have been her grandfather. Having never met the man, she had to ask,” Is this my grandfather and you?”

Filthy nodded, filling one of the glasses nearly to the brim. “You can skip ahead. That surly old bastard would rather punch you in the eye than look at you. There’s a reason you’ve never met him, Diamond.”

Diamond flipped the pages, there were very few of her father when he was a boy, and rapidly they were consumed by images of her. There must have been ten pages of her as a baby, another ten of her at recitals, birthdays, dance lessons, growing up to become a woman over the multitude of pages. She could see her whole life in them, the corners of each page damaged from wear and overuse.

Images of her graduating college, of her in the gym, training, and during fights. She could see stills of every opponent she had ever faced and much of the ire in her receded. She didn’t know what this was or how to react. She looked questioningly to her father and saw he was fingering the empty glass of whiskey. The potent alcohol was having an affect on him and he sagged sadly.

“My...father,” the word was spat more than spoken,” was a very hard man, Diamond. He didn’t believe boys should show any kind of weakness and love was something he despised. I don’t want to talk about him too negatively, he made me what I am today, gave me the motivation to become something of myself and escape his cruelty.” Filthy poured and swallowed another glass, the bottle nearing its end.

“I hated him. I still hate him. I’ll probably never feel anything else for him. ‘Business is hard, son’, he’d say. ‘You can’t have emotions in business. Just makes you soft, and you’re plenty soft enough for us all. You should have been a girl.’” Filthy shook his head in dismissal of his memories. “He was right, though. You have to be hard in business, can’t show any weakness. It’s like you and your MMA, Diamond.”

Diamond was quiet, she felt pity mixing with her frustration, felt her moment of triumph was being squashed, like she may be being played a fool but she had never witnessed this kind of candidness and openness from her father.

“That behemoth of a woman kept hitting you, hurting you. I could see you bleeding. It was horrifying. I hate seeing you get hurt and when she caught you with that uppercut in the first round and you fell against the fencing, I thought I might die but I couldn’t let anyone else know how I felt. My chest hurt as that monster knocked you out at the end of the second round.” Filthy paused to reach for the bottle once more but Diamond snatched it up and took the last couple swallows directly from it, feeling she needed it.

“Was it that obvious that I was out?” She asked dryly as the fire from the bottle licked her stomach and filled her with heat.

“Obvious? No. You held up very well but I could tell how badly you were injured.” Filthy looked at the bloated, purple eye on her face and winced. “Girls are supposed to be soft, Diamond. They shouldn’t have to be hard like me. They deserve a life of ease and pretty things.

But life is hard, Diamond. Very hard.” He looked her over once more and smiled lightly. “I wanted you to be a boy. Yes, I did. I could be hard on a boy but do it the right way, not the way my father was to me. When you were discovered to be a girl, I wasn’t disappointed in you. I was disappointed in myself because I knew I didn’t know how to raise you. I didn’t know how to approach you, hold you, or even talk to you.

So, I did what I knew how to do: be hard, make money. I thought I could give you all the luxury you deserved, all the love I wished I could show you but didn’t know how. I wanted you to always be taken care of. That’s why you frustrate me so much, Diamond.” Filthy pulled another drawer and produced another bottle of liquor. He filled both glasses.

Diamond felt tears in her eyes, the left burned angrily from the salty liquid, and she accepted the offered glass this time. She quenched it nearly as quickly as Filthy.

“Despite everything I did to try and keep you from a life of adversity and difficulty, you pushed against me. You still do, obviously, but not just to spite me, though I know you have done a great many things because you were angry with me. I think, maybe, being hard is just in our family. It runs in us. You take very much after your grandfather, Diamond.”

Diamond shuddered. He had almost complimented her and it was such an odd feeling. “Yeah, well. Sorry to disappoint you again,” she shot her words like a jab, wanting to stir a little pain despite his story. He had harmed her so many times, made her resent him when she never wanted to. She had just wanted his approval and he snuffed it whenever he had the chance. He deserved to hurt a little.

“When you stood up and told the referee you wanted to continue the fight after that late kick, I was so proud of you,” Filthy said.

Diamond felt as if she had fallen into a trap. Her jab was slipped and she had been dealt a knockout counter. She was stunned, her heart clutched in her chest. “What?”

“You were resilient, Diamond. Not just to the beating you were taking, but to what I have been forcing on you since you were born. I wanted to let you be soft, live an easy life. But, I realized while watching you fight, that I was wrong. Just like my father wouldn’t let me be myself, I was taking that right away from you. Making you into what I thought you should be and not who you are. You aren’t fighting to get back at me. You do it because you enjoy it.”

Diamond was rigid, frozen in space. She didn’t know how to feel after hearing her old man had paid her a compliment and admonished himself. The moment was unprecedented in her life.

“For that, Diamond, I am truly sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but, I’d like an opportunity to be a better father.” Filthy went quiet, his head tilted downward in shame. He had said what he wanted to say and waited for Diamond’s answer.

Diamond was apprehensive, mulling her feelings over. She wanted to answer him though she knew she couldn’t give a complete answer. Time would tell, and though she was still very angry, something inside had given a little. She looked her father over and saw a very tired middle aged man. A man who had been pressed into this life whose nature had been restrained. He hadn’t been as hard as her, as resilient. He had allowed himself to change to the world around him. Even if it had made him very rich, he was compromised, diminished because of it.

Filthy Rich wasn’t the villain he had seen him as the day before or the hateful, misogynistic man she had thought him to be. Still, she couldn’t forgive him.

“Why did you rig my title match?” The question was simple.

“I had hoped that if you won, you’d stop fighting. You could throw it in my face, prove your point, and move on. It was wrong. I stole something from you that you can’t get back: your pride. I’m sorry, Diamond. I was foolish.”

“Did you rig any of the others?”

“No. I thought, once you lost, you would be finished but I couldn’t bring myself to intentionally cause you to lose.” He sat, his sentence unknown.

“Dad, I…,” Diamond shook her head. ”I can’t forgive you for the way you’ve made me feel. Even if I know why you did, you’ve hurt me in ways no father should ever hurt their children.” She replaced the glass and turned her back to her father, walking quickly to the door. She reached for the knob.

“Diamond. I didn’t bet against you. I just said that to hurt you. I thought you would win because I’ve watched you grow from a distance your whole life. I’m sorry I was never there in person but that doesn’t mean I never loved you. I knew you had what it took to win. If it means anything, I think you did. I’m very proud of you, Diamond.”

Diamond paused, a small smile rolled on her lips as tears rolled down her cheeks. “Hera’s out for a year recovering. The CFC offered me a bout for the interim title in her absence. I’m going to take it. That means I’ve got two months of medical suspension and four months of training before that fight. If you want to come, I’ve got two front row seats for family or friends. Might be nice to have an extra hand during training every now and then too.”

Diamond opened the door and looked back, her good eye glowed a fierce blue. “If you want to help, I can make it happen. If you don’t, it’s nothing to me. I’ve learned to be hard, Dad. As hard as diamond."