They needed someone pretty enough and smart enough to understand the rules and do her job while still remaining a nice piece of eye candy. There was nothing in the requirements stating she had to love the job, nothing about savoring the fight and really really wanting to be a part of battles, but Koto felt it burning inside her. She needed this job like she needed air. She needed to be able to breathe again, to live again.
She would fight anyone tooth and nail if she had to, but that wasn't part of the job requirements, either.
The first thing they would do was interview you based on random scenarios — given the situation, what rules would or would not apply? Koto passed with flying colors. She had already determined that if she had to memorize a bunch of rules to get where she wanted, she'd do it. She would do it as many times as she had to. Thankfully, though, she only needed to do it once.
They had tried out two ref girls already before her, testing the waters to see which of their options had the most potential. They switched them out on a semi-regular basis, and when Koto finally got her turn to test out her prowess, she was a bundle of nerves and excitement all at once. The guys whose match she was reffing were of pretty typical D class demon stock, big and ugly. Knowing that made her relax a little — there probably wouldn't be any big surprises she'd have to accommodate for, and she could ease into what it was like to speak into a microphone in front of a crowd of crazy fans.
Not much crazier than her, though, she imagined.
"Are both fighters ready?" she asked, the silence between them her cue. "Begin!"
The other part of her job aside than understanding the rules enough to referee was to give a play-by-play for those listening and watching at home on the radio and TV. This was her trial match — she was nervous to screw it up, and so she dove into her commentary almost immediately.
"It seems Jiro's making the first move with a leap toward Yota," she blurted, then immediately felt silly. Was that the kind of thing she should say? Was that even necessary? Was it—
The first punch landed, and blood went flying, snapping her out of her stupor. "And Yota makes a quick right hook, throwing Jiro straight to the ground! Jiro's up and they're struggling for dominance with a flurry of fists — and he lands a nasty blow to Yota's ribs! I can hear the cracking from here, folks!"
She lost herself in the fight, the words tumbling out of her mouth, coming to her as easily as breathing.
"Sounds like Yota's have a tough time breathing — I think this one's all over!"
He fell, and she started her count all the way to the end.
"And the winner is Jiro!"
She was practically panting with excitement, her nervousness gone, completely amped for the next fight.
By the time all the fights that day were done, she was simply thrilled she hadn't been called out of the ring and replaced — she wasn't expecting one of the committee members to approach her while she sat in the lounge, sipping a celebratory daiquiri.
"Koto — you're on tomorrow. Our listeners and viewers practically tripled today when you got on the mic."
She practically choked on frozen slush. "I — I am? They did?"
"They did," he affirmed, grinning. "The people want to see more of you. So I say, let's give it to 'em."
Her face couldn't have possibly been redder. They wanted her out in the ring again. They wanted her — maybe — maybe they wanted her to be their main girl?
"O-of course! I'll be there!" she exclaimed, smiling so wide it practically hurt.
And that was only the beginning.