The following was written for The Writer's Jam 2024. My chosen prompt was showdown (with a few touches of defiance, I suppose). It was cool of them to include that on the list, no point pretending I wasn't going to do a fight scene either way.

On that note, it's not the first time I've written about these two. It's not the fifth time either but only one is public so far. Just in case you read that, I should mention that this is a slightly more grounded canon and Lin's angry counterpart won't be making an appearance. For everybody else, don't worry about it, it's showtime!

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A young woman stands on the torn canvas of a battered boxing ring, she looks more than a little out of place in her spotless white karategi. Her straight black hair, neatly held back with a matching hairband, is further juxtaposed by the small but rowdy crowd. She grabs one of the ropes and pulls it towards herself before letting it spring back into place. The normally modest combatant is starting to consider herself an expert in such battlegrounds... completely unaware that her previous opponents were actually fought in a wrestling ring.

Lin's brief daydream comes to an end as she looks to her corner. Her coach, "Mad" Nadia, stands outside the ropes, her blue eyes returning the inadvertent stare. A small smile crosses Lin's almost perpetually stoic face as her Russian friend's tracksuit reminds her of the villains from a superhero show she saw a few episodes of. Nadia's kind face returns a grin. Contrary to her nickname, she was the most affable person Lin had ever met and would have filled the arena with a loud, jolly laugh if she knew the context of the situation.

Lin looks up at her comparatively tall companion. Having been raised to keep herself presentable, she can't help but admire Nadia's blonde hair tied into a tight bun. Despite being a lady of few words, Lin decides to break the silence before it becomes awkward. "I've never faced a boxer before", she states in a soft voice with hints of a Japanese accent. "You'll be fine", Nadia booms back with more than hints of her Eastern European heritage, "Jill here hits like a truck though so, you know, don't get punched!"

A pair of emerald eyes examine the pair from the opposite corner. Jill's purple sports bra, shorts and boots are lined with a matching green trim, the same verdant that covers her shiny gloves. She even has a black eye from a previous opponent to match the purple, the motif only broken by her shoulder-length red hair. The boxer's no nonsense reputation precedes her, however the serious look on the otherwise colourful character's face would make that obvious even to the uninitiated.

The shrill sound of the ring bell signifies the start of the fight. A quiet tension falls over the crowd as the combatants approach each other. This atmosphere is immediately shattered as Lin comically bows towards Jill's extended glove before hastily bumping it with her own fist. They begin to size each other up, Jill holding her guard strong while delivering the occasional jab. Lin deflects accordingly, responding with a few of her own and the odd kick thrown in for good measure. Lin suspects she'll have to swap strategies before too long, likely not having a hope of beating the stronger striker at her own game. For now however, she's happy to enjoy the early stages of their dance. That is until Jill rams her fist so far into Lin's gut that she could wrap her fingers around her spine if not wearing boxing mitts.

The karate specialist feels her ribs give way against an equally hard hook to her side before, almost mercifully, being knocked to the mat by a haymaker to the temple. "What did I just say!?", Nadia yells from ringside… or she did within Lin's now concussed mind anyhow. Lin staggers to her feet hoping to have only been unconscious for a few seconds and not minutes. She realises it's not too late as the referee interrupts his ten count, although she can't make out at what number. What surprise she can muster is directed at Jill who is standing, guard up, still ready to fight. The boxer apparently didn't take the opportunity to kick her opponent while down as the relaxed rules of the tournament would have allowed. Either she's a better sportswoman than Lin's previous adversaries or the rules of her sport of choice are too well ingrained.

Jill hurls another sledgehammer of a punch towards Lin's face. Almost entirely by instinct, she dodges and uses the pugilist's own speed to send her to the floor. Not in the mood to return Jill's previous courtesy, Lin launches a series of downward strikes. Being horizontal doesn't seem to affect the redhead's punching prowess as she responds in kind, adding a bloody nose to Lin's list of injuries before the younger competitor decides it's not worth the effort and just lets her get up.

Now, seemingly more keen to get this over with, Jill targets Lin's stomach again. Once again Lin counters with a throw, this time also attempting to lock in an armbar but a trio of punches to her already mangled innards put a stop to that. Any subsequent grapples are punctuated with a single quick jab, if Lin thinks she can get away with even that, before getting out of Dodge. Jill doesn't seem to have an answer, the conclusion would be forgone for any other fight in Lin's career. However, the seeds, that Jill violently punched into the ground earlier, are starting to bloom for her.

Lin struggles to breathe as the impact of her own throws rattle her cracked ribs. More shining lights appear in her periphery each time she dizzily returns to a vertical base. Even the effort of raising her guard is becoming exhausting. After a particularly nasty trip to the floor, the rivals rise up to face each other one last time. Lin coughs up blood. Jill notices.

A sparkle in Jill's eye betrays what's about to happen next. Likewise the look on Lin's face, underneath all the blood, shows Jill that Lin is aware of the fact... but it's happening anyway. With all her remaining strength, Jill sprints forward, her intentions clear. Many thoughts fly through Lin's head, as many as her barely conscious mind would allow in the few seconds before they would be joined by a fist.

A stray vision bulldozes its way through all notions of building a strategy. Lin hazily remembers a Western that might not exist. Two gunslingers awaiting high noon. Only one would walk away from the encounter. Sheriff Linda is in the middle of a showdown of her own. It's time to... "Draw!", Lin completes her stream of nonsense consciousness aloud as she quickly introduces the heel of her foot to Jill's approaching nose, the added momentum helping the kick to break it with a sickening crunch as she falls back followed gracefully by two red geysers.

The ten count is bypassed as Jill's team hurry into the ring to prevent her from drowning more than anything else. Lin, about ready to collapse herself, is shaken back to reality as an over-enthusiastic Nadia grabs her into a crippling bear hug. "That was incredible! Never before have I seen someone so expertly dismantle an opponent! We must celebrate!", she bellows. "Ribs", replies Lin. "That barbecue place you like? Sure, anything you want, it's on me!", Nadia obliviously continues. "No, my ribs", a compressed Lin barely manages to squeak out. "Oh, sorry!", exclaims the Russian, finally releasing her vice-like grip.

Lin, now leaning over, pats her friend on the leg, not having the energy or breath to give an audible reply. Putting Nadia's unintended attack out of her mind, Lin remembers Jill and glances over to check on her. She's happy to see the boxer already sitting upright, albeit with an extraordinary amount of gauze protruding from each nostril. The redhead offers Lin a weary thumbs up. It’s difficult to tell with the gloves, she's pretty sure it was intended as such no matter what other digit might have been raised. Either way, Lin hopes to meet her new rival again someday for another showdown.