The heavy bag in the Chaldea gym bounced with every punch Mordred threw. She grunted with each strike, her gloves digging into the leather. Ritsuka stood back as Mordred danced around the hanging bag. Sweat dripped from Mordred's face onto the ground and her shoes. Her brow furrowed as she threw the same combination: jab, lead hook, and straight.
"Okay, now cross-lure," Ritsuka called. Mordred let out a sharp breath and nodded, throwing a jab, a cross, and a lead uppercut. It was one of many combinations Ritsuka had her drill every day, digging the strikes into her muscle memory while her brain absorbed the names. She wanted every advantage possible against Penthesilea. Using codenames for her combinations and tactics was a small one, but she knew it would keep the Amazon on her toes.
Mordred went to town on the boxing bag for another ten minutes before Ritsuka had her stop. Her skin glowed red and shone under the fluorescent lights. She let out a deep breath as she removed her gloves and unwrapped her hands, biting into the tape with her sharp canine teeth.
"How are you feeling?" Ritsuka asked.
"Damn good, coach," Mordred replied, wiping sweat off her brow. "Maybe I could have punched harder, though."
Ritsuka shook her head. "You don't need to put all of your power into each shot, even against someone like Penth. Don't go full force unless you're confident you'll land a knockout."
"Right," Mordred mumbled. "Nighttime class starting soon?"
Ritsuka nodded. "Is Fran joining today?"
"Yeah, the doctors said she should be good to resume training," Mordred answered. "She's been wanting to get back into it."
Ritsuka smiled. "That's great! I'll meet you on the mats later. I need to check if any messages have arrived."
Mordred flashed a thumbs up and headed downstairs. She reeked of sweat but decided not to shower; she'd just waste water taking another after training. The sticky feeling on her skin, nevertheless, made her cringe as she stood in line with her training partners. Her lips pursed when Chiyome's nose crinkled.
"Hey, Mordred!" Musashi greeted, clapping her back. "Got a training session in before class, eh?"
"Just some light conditioning," Mordred replied with a grin.
"That looks a bit more than light," Musashi remarked as she glanced at the dark spots on Mordred's gear.
"Hey, compared to what I'll need against Penth, this is nothing." She glanced over Musashi's shoulder as the front door swung open.
Frankenstein stepped into the gym with her bag over her shoulder. Her hair covered the tranquil look in her eyes, but the smile on her face was clear to all. It had been several weeks since she set foot into Chaldea. While she kept in shape by jogging with Mordred, the urge to get back to training and sparring swelled in her chest every day. Mordred waved her over as the other gym members went to the locker rooms.
"Hey, sorry I left without you," Mordred said as the two hugged. "I didn't want to wake you up."
"It's okay," Frankenstein said. "I know you have to train early."
Mordred nodded. "Ready to get back to it?"
"Yes," Frankenstein replied with a smile. Mordred flashed her a thumbs up before Fran went off to change. She kept her mind on Penthesilea as she waited for class to start, bouncing from one foot to the other as she thought of how she could fight. Her upcoming bout flooded her thoughts day and night. When she brushed her teeth, she imagined the best way to move her head when avoiding Penthesilea's punches. During quiet moments with Fran at dinner, she wondered how she could use her footwork to set up offense.
Mordred and Frankenstein pushed each other through the day's training. Frankenstein's winged her punches, throwing them wide at the pads on Mordred's hands. She breathed heavily during grappling practice as though choking on the dry air. Her brow furrowed as her body reconditioned itself to fighting, her arms and legs burning with each strike. Frustration mounted in the back of her head despite her expectations. When she lay in bed the night before, she prepared herself mentally for a difficult day of training. The day, however, was almost as bad as her first day on a mat.
Hair stuck to Frankenstein's forehead by the time Ritsuka called for the end of the day's training. Mordred brushed it back to see Fran's eyes, grinning as Fran glanced at her unamused.
"That wasn't too bad, was it?" Mordred remarked, clapping Fran's slick shoulder. Frankenstein narrowed her eyes and gave an exaggerated pout.
"You do laundry today," she said, making Mordred snicker.
"That's fair. You wanna stay after with me? The coaches and I are gonna go over some tactics later."
"Sure," Frankenstein replied with a nod. The two went to the lockers and got into adjacent showers. Steam filled Fran's nostrils as she took in a deep breath, leaning against the wall as the hot water ran down her body. She wondered to herself what advice she could give to Mordred. Though Mordred had faced strong women in the past, Fran herself included, none possessed the same speed and skill wielded by Penth. As she shut off the water, only one thing came to mind: don't get hit.
The Chaldea coaches gathered in Ritsuka's office to discuss Mordred's training. They began working on ideas from the day Ritsuka secured the fight. Scathach, in particular, had plans floating in her mind during Frankenstein's preparation. She believed from the moment Mordred entered the top five rankings that she'd face off against Penthesilea one day. However, when she saw Penthesilea fight up close, all of her ideas went out the window.
"I've been focusing on cardio to keep up with her," Mordred said. "But I'm starting to wonder if I should work on strength instead."
"I wouldn't try that," Scathach said. "You're both strong, but there's a significant gap between you two. Six weeks isn't enough to close it."
"I think it would be fine to incorporate some strength-building exercises," Lancer suggested. He turned to Mordred, adding, "It can help you defend against takedowns."
"Then we should focus on drilling takedown defense," Boudica said.
Mordred let out a sharp breath. Her thoughts found kinship with those of the others in the room. They were going up against a complete fighter, one seemingly stronger Mordred. She leaned her head on her hand as she thought of how to approach the camp. Her veteran coaches continued to debate the same. Frankenstein kept quiet as she did all she could to remember the fight, wracking her brain to come up with something that could help Mordred.
"When I fought Penth, I hit her nose," Fran spoke up during a lull in the conversation. "It seemed to affect her for a bit."
"Well, anyone will be hurt if you hit them on the nose," Scathach remarked. "But injuries like that never recover completely. It might be a good target for you, Mordred."
"So just punch her in the face?" Mordred asked as she scratched her head. "Ain't that the point of the fight anyway?"
"Create the opportunity," Scathach said. "Getting into a firefight is just going to get you knocked out. I know you like to go wild in there every now and then, but you need to stay sharp for this fight."
"Don't think that means you have to stay on the defense," Lancer said. "If anything, try to keep her pressured through the fight, even if it means taking a bit of damage. Just don't get yourself in a position where you'll get knocked out."
Mordred nodded, visualizing the fight as she stared at the floor. At the end of the day, she wasn't going up against a monster or a machine; it was another woman. Penthesilea looked to be her most difficult fight yet, but she reminded herself: it's just a fight. She leaned back in her chair and glanced at Ritsuka.
"She's a balanced fighter who's stronger than me," Mordred said. "Let's take out the 'stronger than me' part and focus our training from there, yeah?"
Ritsuka pursed her lips and looked to Boudica, Scathach, and Lancer. The three glanced at each other. Mordred narrowed her eyes at their puzzled looks, crossing her arms with a smirk.
"I get she's tough, but she couldn't put away Fran with one hit," Mordred continued. "It isn't like I'm going down after one punch."
Lancer nodded, though remarked, "She has one hell of a punch, though."
"Great," Mordred said with a shrug, eyebrows raised as she glared at Lancer. "Then let's start with avoiding it, shall we?"
Lancer chuckled. "Good idea."
The meeting continued for half an hour, during which they scheduled Mordred's camp. Frankenstein remained quiet throughout it, nodding along occasionally and giving bits of advice against Penthesilea. When it was over, she and Mordred boarded the train back to Shinjuku and stayed at home for the rest of the day. Neither spoke much as their minds remained anchored to the same thought: how Mordred would fight Penthesilea.
Fran kept her concerns to herself as the week of the fight neared. Mordred worked on keeping the fight on the feet, her best bet if she wanted to win against Penthesilea. She trained with Tawara Tota to simulate Penth's strength as a grappler. Though his body type was different with a much wider torso, it gave her an idea of how to escape if caught. Her training gloves grew tattered. Welts and bruises covered her arms and legs, so much so that she wore long-sleeved shirts and full jeans to hide them.
Mordred's training kept her in the gym, returning home only to sleep and eat. Fran stayed to help her spar, but she soon began going home on her own as the day of the fight drew near. They exchanged texts while Mordred was at Chaldea and Fran was in her apartment, oftentimes no more than twice a day. Bags sagged under Mordred's eyes when she arrived home late at night and awoke early the next day. Her coaches insisted she relax more to avoid burnout, but Mordred showed up regardless.
The night before they were set to fly out, Mordred and Fran's bags were ready. Fran offered to pack Mordred's clothes while she was training. Mordred thanked her in a text and promised to return early. She wanted to get on the flight while well-rested, dreading the long flight from Japan to the United States.
When she arrived back at the apartment, Mordred found Fran sitting at the dining table. Fran smiled and waved Mordred over. A large green salad, crisp and plain, sat next to a small plate with a pan-cooked chicken breast. Mordred smiled despite her weariness. She chuckled as she sauntered over to the table, giving Fran a kiss on the forehead.
"Thanks, Fran," Mordred said as she sat down. "I haven't had much time to sit down and eat dinner."
Frankenstein nodded. "It's fine," she said, though a twinge of loneliness crept into her often monotonous voice. "I know it's important."
Mordred pursed her lips at the sound of Fran's voice. "Hey, I'm sorry I've been away pretty often lately. I'll make it up to you when the fight's over." She stabbed a piece of lettuce with her fork before poking her head back up. "Oh, and thanks for packing everything today."
Frankenstein smiled at Mordred's blunt, laconic gratitude. Though Mordred's words were often boorish, Frankenstein knew she meant well, just as she knew they'd have plenty of time together after they returned. It was their first dinner together in weeks. She wanted to enjoy it in peace. Mordred told stories of the training sessions Frankenstein couldn't attend, talking between chews as she wolfed down the chicken and salad.
Next morning, when the sun rose, Mordred and Frankenstein hauled their bags downstairs. Mordred shoved her hands in her pocket as she and Fran waited for their ride. Frankenstein's white dress billowed in the gentle breeze. Dozens of cars droned parallel to the hundreds walking up and down the sidewalk, their heels clicking on the concrete.
Ritsuka pulled up in a rental van after ten minutes of waiting by the street. "Got everything you need, Mo?" she asked when the side door opened.
"You know it!" she replied, throwing an arm around Frankenstein. Her fingers tapped nervously on Fran's shoulder. Once she got into that van, there would be no chance to back out, save for an injury or quitting. Despite the butterflies thrashing about in her stomach, Mordred flashed her cocky smirk and said, "Let's hurry up! I'm gonna get that woman back for what she did to Fran!"