Doorways to the Past, Present, and Future (BPD vs. SEBIII)
Dec 1, 2020 23:28:01 GMT -5
Alex Kiseragi likes this
Post by wwjbcd on Dec 1, 2020 23:28:01 GMT -5
Wednesday, December 1, 2010 Seibu Railway Grounds, 5:58pm
Another long exhausting day was at long last coming to an end. Each day bled into the other: cold mornings outside, cold evening departures. Luckily, the trek back home was along the railway’s route; in that regard, the job was head and shoulders above those where getting home was a job in and of itself. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves here.
Hideyoshi was busy, hunched over tightening a bolt, making sure it was nice and tight, making sure he did it with maximum safety. He took pride in his job, and it paid well enough for him to provide for his wife and eight-year-old son. He had been working on the rails for several years now, and while the hours weren’t what he’d like them to be, he makes do. It might not be office work, but it was honest work. So, he meticulously ensured everything was done perfectly and with absolute safety consciousness.
It was also a good way to stretch out the final two minutes of his shift.
Hideyoshi gathered his jacket and lunch bag, and just as he was about to punch out, the looming figure of that which all at Seibu Railway feared emerged from the ethers. It was Shinjiro Tanahashi, the Foreman. Shinigami Tanahashi, or Death God Tanahashi, he was called. Well, not to his face, anyway. He was always the bearer of bad news. Hideyoshi could feel his presence without looking, as if the air grew colder than normal all of a sudden.
“Yamashiro-san, I know you’re about to go home for the day, but-”
Hideyoshi shut his eyes and quietly inhaled before turning around to respond. “Yes, boss, what would you like?”
“As it comes closer to the holiday season,” Shinjiro said as if verbally reciting a fax from head office he most definitely received. “The necessity for certain sacrifices to be made will be asked of us all. Traditionally, we have culled hours during this season; the junior members of JR RENGO Japan Railway Trade Unions Confederation are asked to take cuts to their hours.”
“Why couldn’t you have just said ‘union’?” Hideyoshi muttered.
“Pardon me?”
“Ah, I was just saying that I understand what you’re getting at.” Hideyoshi cleverly took advantage of the hard 0f hearing foreman.
“Then we’re on the same page.” Shinigami Tanahashi said, his voice unchanged despite being pleased at the lack of hassle from the young man.
“Yes, sir.”
“I take it you’ve prepared for this inevitability.” the foreman said, already turning to walk away.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” Shinjiro said aloofly. “You’re reliable to not just us but your young family as well.”
“Yes, sir.” Hideyoshi replied the same way as the last two times. He knew Shinjiro was barely paying attention anyway.
“Well. We’ll be seeing you tomorrow.” Shinjiro said, already out of the locker room and back in his office. He closed the door behind him.
“Yes… sir…” Hideyoshi sighed. He reached the exit door, but couldn’t find the strength to do anything but rest his head against it. His eyes shut tight, his breathing began getting out of control, and his hand subconsciously curled into a fist. He then finds himself pounding hard upon the door.
The office door across from him creaked open a bit. “Is everything all right out there, Yamashiro-san?”
Hideyoshi blinked, looking around confused for a second. “U-uh, yes, sir, yes. Just thought I saw a cockroach.”
“Ah.” was all the foreman said as he closed his door anew.
Hideyoshi looked back toward the office door before opening the exit door and stepping out back into the cold cruel world.
When the door opens again, Hideyoshi has now entered his modest apartment. Two bedrooms, one and a half bathrooms, a kitchen and living room barely separated from each other. Deep in the heart of one of the most dangerous neighbourhoods in all of Japan: Kabukicho, Shunjuku. It’s infamy is known the world over. But on the 14th floor, they could safely look at the fearsome world below, safe and sound, if only at least until they left for work or school. The size of the suite, the location of it, it came with a reasonable price tag, something Hideyoshi could afford. It meant his wife Mitsuko had to work part time herself, but they made it work. They had to.
Mitsuko was busy doing dishes, still wearing her NTT docomo uniform. Having been lost in thought, she was startled by the arrival of her husband. She quickly dried her hands and flitted on over to her hardworking man.
“Welcome back!” Mitsuko said as she held onto the side of Hideyoshi’s face, planting a kiss firmly on his cheek before rushing back to the fridge.
“I’m back home.” Hideyoshi said, so tired he said it after the traditional greeting as opposed to before. He removed his shoes, hung up his jacket, and laid his lunch bag onto the counter. As he did, So too did Mitsuko lay down a fancy cheesecake.
“Happy birthday!” her voice was so angelic it almost came out as if sung.
As she said this, the sound of little footsteps drummed up from one room, getting louder and louder… until Hideyoshi was within the merciless grip of…
Kenichi, his tween son. Rambunctious but well-meaning, kind but struggling in school. Unwilling to be too strict on him, considering how strict Hideyoshi’s own father was, they rationalized their lax attitude with saying Kenichi was just eight; there was plenty of time to teach him better studying habits, but you’re only eight once. This was not usual for parents in Japan, however.
“Ken-chan, be gentle with your father - he’s had a long day!” Mitsuko scolded.
“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Hideyoshi said, a wan smile creeping upon his face. Kenichi held on a bit longer as a result. He finally let go, fishing into his pocket for something that he immediately imposed onto his father.
“Happy birthday!” Kenichi said. “It’s a-”
“Don’t tell me what it is before I’ve opened it!” Hideyoshi said as Kenichi’s attention was taken away by the delicious-looking cake. The birthday boy opened his small gift; a Doraemon keychain.
“My favourite anime as a child.” he said, impressed at the thoughtfulness of the gift. It might have been trivial to someone richer, someone less down-to-earth, but to Hideyoshi, this was more than a mere keychain - it was a trip back in time, to when he was Kenichi’s age, sneaking in episodes of the famous robot cat while his father worked or slept. A show hat entertained children around the world for 60 years now. His own father’s favourite anime when he was a child himself! But Hideyoshi’s father, as an adult, forgot who he once was. Hideyoshi vowed to never forget. He never did.
He knelt down to give his son a hug, but Kenichi only half-heartedly hugged back, coveting the fancy cake.
Hideyoshi and Mitsuko both scoffed lightheartedly at their son’s transparent obligations.
“Help your mother out by gathering plates and forks as she cuts this wonderful thing.” Hideyoshi says as he musses Kenichi’s hair. “I’ll go get changed.”
He then excuses himself as his wife and son get to work to celebrate his 26th birthday.
A short while later, Hideyoshi is washing his face, when all of a sudden, the entire bathroom begins to shake. It’s gentle but constant. Hideyoshi braces himself by holding into the sink, just in case. “Of course on my birthday.”
“Daddy! Daddy!” Kenichi cals out as he rushes into the bathroom, tugging on his father’s shirt. “Did you feel that?!”
He properly dries off his face, tossing the towel over his son’s head. “Of course I felt that! It was an earthquake!”
Kenichi giggled as he wrestled to get the towel off. Mitsuko shuffles into view. “Ken-chan, come back and help me! The earthquake’s over.”
He tosses the towel at Hideyoshi before following his mother back to the kitchen. When they were out of earshot, he sighs, “I hate earthquakes.”
A minute later, he’s reunited with his family. They try to sing “Happy birthday” in unison, but Kenichi is distracted by - you guessed it - the fabulous cheesecake. Custom-decorated with Doraemon wrestling legendary Japanese wrestler Angelino Inoue, the raspberry-coconut cheesecake was truly a sight to behold!
After “singing”, they all collectively tucked into the delight, Kenichi more than his parents, of course.
“So dear,” Mitsuko began, “Did they do anything nice for you at work today?”
“Ha!” Hideyoshi responded, “Of course not. If it’s not related to my work rate, they don’t care. I mean, they care to an extent, but there’s just so many of us there.”
Mitsuko rubs Hideyoshi’s arm in consolation. Between mouthfuls of cake, Kenichi asks, “Do you think you could beat up Angelino Inoue?”
Mitsuko laughed, but Hideyoshi replied, “What kind of question is that? He’s a wrestler, I just work on trains! Even at his age, he’d definitely beat me-”
Kenichi looked disappointed at his father’s response.
“Ah, that is, unless we were wrestling at the railyard.” Hideyoshi recovered. “That’s my environment and I’d make good use of it. Then I’d win.”
Kenichi cheered as he unceremoniously departed the kitchen with the remainder of his cake to do eight-year-old business. Hideyoshi breathed a sigh of relief.
“And how do you like the cake?” Mitsuko asked, already knowing the answer. After all, raspberry-coconut cheesecake was his favourite.
“I love it, especially after the day I’ve had today.”
A worried look came across Mitsuko’s face. She ushered her husband to the couch. He almost dropped his fork in the process.
“Tell me all about it.” Mitsuko requested. But Hideyoshi knew his wife’s requests were never optional.
“I, uh-” Hideyoshi began to say, but how could he tell her that the foreman would be cutting his hours? Probably until February at least? That he failed to save up the money needed to live comfortably for the next few months? That he was so overworked that he neglected to think ahead? They wouldn’t lose their home, and they wouldn’t starve, but it would be a paltry Christmas this year. How can he tell her he failed her and Kenichi? That she might have to try to get more hours at the mobile centre? “Just the usual- but listen, how much did you spend on that cake? It must have cost a fortune to get it designed just so!”
Mitsuko gently slapped his arm, “You’ve been doing that for years now! You never mind how much the cake cost! It’s your birthday!”
“Okay, okay, okay.” Hideyoshi said in defeat. At least he had managed to successfully change the subject. He rose back to his feet. “I left my work vest in the bathroom; I’ll be right back.”
He then excused himself, entering the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
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When the door opened again, he emerged and was now inside the SJW Gym’s foyer. The #1 Hit-Maker Johnny Bonecrusher was already there waiting for him.
“What took you so long?” A banged-up Johnny scolded. Only a day removed from a particularly embarrassing episode of Synergy, he was still a bit shook up and irritated, and he was beginning to question whether downing Tylenol and Zoloft at the same time was actually good for him. “Wrestler McWrestlerington is gonna have you go out there anytime now!”
Alongside Johnny was Harlow Kinsley, someone Johnny was familiar with from their time as coworkers in EWC but was hardly known by The Strong Style Satanist. Noticing Hide’s confused look at the redhead’s presence, he responds, “Oh, right, Hide, this is Harlow, Harlow, this is Hide. Go ahead and shake her hand if you want!”
Hide in fact did so, and the gesture was reciprocated. “Pretty sure I know who the World Champion is, Johnny.” Harlow said.
“Right.” Johnny replied. “I’m admittedly a bit out of it. “Anyway, Hide, she’s here because we’re in talks, you see. She was also keen on confirming the relevance of a wrestling promotion actually called SJW.”
“Thought it was a joke.” She shrugged. “Like, ‘Oh hey, new gal, did you know this guy - whose name is Wrestley McWrestleface, by the way - runs a fed called SJW?’ Sounds like a rib to me.”
“Yeah, well,” Johnny sighed, “It’s real, it’s all real, for better or for worse.”
“You did well last night.” Hide addressed the newcomer to the UGWC, “Defeat at the hands of a legend such as Mr. Boolzian is only shameful if the effort wasn’t maximized.”
“Uh.” Harlow’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “Johnny?”
Johnny looked around as he sighed. “Uh, she’s not here yet, huh? Well, uh, I, uh, I caught that he was telling you good job yesterday and then some stuff about Randy. I’m going to guess he was saying something about how he was just on a roll, what with he and Hide here beating Sloane and that no-good, low-down, yella-bellied, panty-waisted, knock-kneed, scum-suckin' pencil-necked geek a week ago. Eh, no big deal; we know what you’re fully capable of, so just shrug off this week.”
“Easy for you to say.” Harlow retorted, though it appeared she actually wasn’t all too bitter about her debut loss.
Johnny pointed at her. Close enough that she had to move his hand away. “No. No. Not easy for me to say! Not easy for me to say at all! Did you not see what happened last night? Didn’t you? Everyone and their dog just had to stick their noses where they didn’t belong in a collective last gambit to give that, that aforementioned no-good, low-down, yella-bellied, panty-waist-”
“Yeah, okay, go on though?” Harlow rightfully interrupted.
Johnny growled a bit, but was too mellowed out by the drugs to do anything but continue. “To Sebastian! To Sebastian. They all colluded to ensure Sebastian wins next week at Horizons!”
It wasn’t that Harlow didn’t believe the person she was considering putting all her trust into, but… “They… all… colluded?”
“They all colluded!!” Johnny exclaimed. “Too many people, too many people want to see me fail, and if that means getting the UGWC World Heavyweight Championship off of ‘Deathwish’ Hide Yamazaki, then they’ll try it! They’ll stack the deck, put all the aces on top, opt to go first, and, and, hope and pray that’s enough to finally be rid of us!”
Harlow raised an eyebrow, “You guys are leaving if Hide loses?”
“Aha!” Johnny exclaimed as he pointed at her again. And not learning from last time, close enough that she had to move his hand away. This time it was more like a cat batting away a toy. “That’s what they’d want! That’s what they’d looooove! They’re expecting things that happened in the past to ensure we go away, maybe for a while, maybe for good, but the joke’s on them, because we are the UGWC! We’ve been here for close to two years now, and while year one was, eh, year two rewrote the script!”
“And what’s gonna happen in year three?” Harlow inquired.
“The future is uncertain and should remain that way.” Hide chimed in.
Harlow looked at Hide, then expectantly at Johnny. “He said I was right, that I’m always right.”
Harlow looked back at Hide, who just shook his head.
“All right, he said something about the future being a mystery, I think.”
“I’m gonna go with the less crazy answer then.” she said as she tried taking a peek beyond the door that led to the gymnasium proper.
“The bottom line is this:” Johnny said as he paused to shine Hide’s belt that rested over his shoulder. “We live in a world where everyone wants us to fail, but that world is the same one we rule! Try as they might, they can’t really bring us down in meaningful ways, so they just throw whatever at the wall and hope it sticks. Oh sure, some things have clung onto said wall for a while, but their fate’s the same as everything else: it always slinks to the bottom.”
“Okay, I hear what you’re saying, but-” Harlow said in a tone you’d use on a child you didn’t want to upset. “Hide’s not going up against just anyone, is he? Like, isn’t this Sebastian guy your arch-nemesis and all that?”
A scowl washed over Johnny’s face. “Sebastian is the King of the Sonsabitches, and the largest obstacle in our way. I seriously thought we were done with him for good, but he gave up a chance at potentially becoming a grand slam champion just for one last chance to establish himself as the biggest asshole in all of professional wrestling. But not on my watch, pal!”
Hide merely growled at the utterage of his former friend’s name. Johnny references his phone briefly. “Anyway, it’s time. Go on out there and make us proud, Hide!”
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Then Hide opens the door, and he’s met with a sea of young would-be big-time wrestlers and their trainer, as well as owner of Supreme Jersey Wrestling, Wrestley McWrestleface. The SJW Gym was in fact not a gym inasmuch as it was a yoga studio that used to be a garage, but everyone in attendance’s demeanours didn’t reflect the one-step-below humble training grounds for the future of the future of professional wrestlers’ preliminary opponents.
“Oh!” Wrestley gasped. He gives Hide a thumbs up and motions for him and Harlow to take a seat as he continues speaking to his new class. “Anyway, like I was saying, telling a story is important, but the story is just that much more intriguing when told by an interesting character! This is why we spent so much time developing your characters before we got into any actual training.”
And interesting characters were to be found here indeed:
Among them were Ben Slapiro, an obnoxiously nerdy heel who claims that “Facts don’t care about your feelings and neither do my fists!”
Termite Queen, a husky woman face wearing a termite-styled costume and a crown. Her backside has a large and uncomfortable termite queen abdomen jutting out of it. Despite being told this was impractical, she just wants to wrestle some more to make sure.
Cop Doctor, a relatively older student whose gimmick is he’s a face or a heel dependent on whether he’s more doctory or more policemany during the match. Certain locales might decide all that for him, though.
Bruiser Baby, a heavyset heel dressed like a baby who uses their rattle as a foreign object to win matches. He will occasionally like to insert stink bombs into his diaper so that when an opponent kicks him in the ass, they break the bombs in the process. Wrestley is going to need to consider putting him on last.
Grappley McGrapplehead, a Wrestley McWrestleface stan, so obsessed with the SJW owner that people wonder if it’s really a gimmick or if they should call the police. For the time being, he’s a face.
And finally, Roll O’Darby, an inline skating enthusiast, always eager to please the fans and pull off tricks on her way to the ring, but she’s still trying to figure out how to wrestle with her skates on.
Looking on at her environment and all these weird characters, Harlow wonders if she’s really as nutty as she’s been told.
“Because if we figure out what you want to do, we can build your wrestling training around it!” Wrestley said in an upbeat tone that while truly sincere, was perhaps a tad misguided. “I mean, after all, if you want to be a sumo wrestler, we’re not going to up and have you trained to be a luchador, right?”
Everyone nods in agreement. Harlow sees this and nods along. Hide sees Harlow nodding and also nods along.
“Hard work, innovative ideas, and a never-give-up attitude are all you need to succeed!” he said as he pointed at everyone in attendance. He then gave them all a big thumbs up, before looking over at Hide. Admittedly, there was a very faint lingering worry that Hide may at any time suddenly jump up and exact revenge on the SJW owner, but he needed to press on for his students. “Now, I hate to use myself as an example, but considering who our guest is, it’s important you all hear this: last year, I was in the fight of my life with one Hide Yamazaki, and even though I was terrified to enter the ring with him, I proved to the world that perseverance could overcome any obstacle! And in turn, Hide here also persevered and look at him now: he’s the Unified Global Wrestling Coalition World Heavyweight Champion! All things are possible, if you put your mind to it! Now, let’s actually have him come up here so he can tell you himself! Let’s have a big round of applause for ‘Deathwish’ Hide Yamazaki!”
Everyone in attendance cheers, and puzzlingly so does Hide himself. Harlow nudges him to go up to the makeshift podium made up of two stacks of milk crates. Wrestley shakes hands with Hide before taking Hide’s seat for himself. The World Champion stands there, uncertain what he’s supposed to do.
Wrestley turns to Harlow and whispers, “Didn’t he prepare a speech?”
“You’re asking the wrong gal here, Wesley.” Harlow shrugged.
“It’s Wrestley - and where’s Johnny and his translator?” he asked with a bit of a worried tone.
“Oh… that.” Harlow responded. “See, the thing about that is… she got lost on her way here and Johnny’s out looking for her.”
Wrestley’s mouth slowly goes agape.
“Anyway, good luck with that!” Harlow says as she slaps Wrestley on the back.
Wrestley immediately jumps back up to his feet. “Uhh, anyone here by any chance speaks Japanese?”
A few hands go up.
“And wants to translate for Hide?”
All but one hand remains up: Roll O’Darby, a real weeaboo if ever there was one. She wheeled on over to Hide’s side. Hide observes this young weirdo for a few moments before giving her a nod of acknowledgement. Wrestley motions for them to begin.
“It wasn’t that long ago that my new career began. I wasn’t always a rustler. I used to be a-”
“Wait,” Wrestley interrupted, “Did you mean ‘wrestler’?”
Roll cringed, “...Yes.”
“Okay. Okay, it’s okay! You’re doing great.” Roll’s boss said, trying to keep her confidence up. “Keep going!”
“I used to work in a railyard back in Saipan.”
“How did she get ‘Saipan’ out of ‘Japan’?!” Harlow whispered to Wrestley incredulously. Wrestley shushed her.
“I never had any interest in becoming a professional wrestler, but I used to watch it when I was younger. My favourite wrestler was Angelino Inoue-”
Roll and Roll alone pops for that name. While it was true Angelico was a major star, the younger crowd were more into guys like Shinnosuke Tanemura and BENTO. Hide pats her on the back.
“Anyway, I never saw my furniture as being here with you all today. I-”
Wrestley sighed at the utterance of “furniture” instead of “future”. Harlow suppressed her laughter as best as she could. But Hide had hesitated and for good reason; was his history relevant to these strangers?”
“Four years ago, there was a terrible earthquake where I lived. It was so violent it destroyed my home… and I… lost my wife and my son as a result.”
The murmuring stopped; the room was dead silent. Even Harlow was left to process what was being told to her.
“I don’t know how I survived, but sometimes I wished I hadn’t. I woke up in a hospital, and was later transferred to a facility that tried to help me cope with my new reality. But besides my heart and soul, my mind had shattered. I was left to spend the remainder of my days somewhere I couldn’t leave. I counted the seconds, the minutes, the hours, the days… until I’d be with Mitsuko and Kenichi again.”
Some people began to tear up at the sad tale. This isn’t what they expected when they were told they’d be given advice by the #1 guy in the UGWC. Roll herself began to choke up and required a moment to compose herself. Hide patted her on the back again, nodding at her in a clumsy attempt to console her.
“But I’m not telling you this to sadden you. Let me finish. You see, one day, I was visited by a Canadian who I was assured was a true wrestling legend. I do recall hearing of his time in a Japanese wrestling organization called NJFC, and he was one of their top stars. That man was Johnny Bonecrusher.”
There was a mixed reaction at the name of the controversial manager.
“At first, his intentions were selfish ones, but as time progressed, we became closer, and he truly helped me become the woman I am today. I no longer mourn my family, but rather, I fight every day to make them proud of me. In this way, we all must act. If we allow ourselves to be consumed by the things we cannot charge, we will never move forward. No door will open for us; we must sting it open or push it open ourselves!”
“Man, change, swing.” Harlow muttered to herself.
“You don’t have to decide at this very moment, but you will have to decide eventually: will you fall to the ground and give up… or will you steel yourselves and press on? The rewards will be apparent, and a penis will follow.”
The class, Wrestley, and eventually Harlow herself (after the laughter of the horribly translated “happiness” subsided) stand up and applaud the inspirational speech. Hide doesn’t understand what he feels was common sense was worthy of this reaction, but he doesn’t resist their appreciation.
Wrestley rejoined Hide up at the “podium”, shaking the champion’s hand again. Once the cheers subsided, Wrestley began to speak. “Now, Hide’s obviously a busy guy, but before he has to go, he’s also agreed to answer some of your questions!”
Countless hands shoot up. Wrestley points to Termite Queen. “Bzzzzzzhow did you feel when you heard Sebastian Everett-Bryce-”
“The third!!” everyone else shouts.
“The third! Bzzzzzzhow did you feel when you found out he’d use his Battleground prize to challenge you for the World Heavyweight Title at Horizons?”
“Considering his obsession with what I own,” Hide began, “I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was. We seem to forever be interlocked in an unending struggle. It will never end until one of us is dead.”
“Do termites buzz?” Harlow asked seriously.
“Anyone else?” Wrestley asked. He points at Cop Doctor.
“Good evening, citizen. Are you eating your apples? Are you keeping your nose clean? I’ve got my eye on you!”
“Uh.” Hide said, unsure he was even being asked questions. “Yes and yes?”
Cop Doctor nodded as he pointed two fingers at his eyes and back at Hide himself, before sitting back down.
“Anyone else?” Wrestley asked again before singling out Ben Slapiro.
“Uh, yeah, I’d just like you know if you in fact have a valid working visa?”
Everyone else boos the tasteless question.
“What? What? It’s a valid question! It was just an innocent question! ICE is just a phone call away, you know!”
Everyone throws stuff at Ben until he conceded and sits back down.
“Let’s hear from Grappley instead, huh?” Wrestley asked Hide.
“Hi! Hello! And greetings!” Grappley said as he bounded to his feet. He appears not unlike a man who has done nothing but drink coffee for the past several hours. “I just wanted to know how it felt to fall at the hands of the great and incomparable Wrestley McWrestleface?”
Wrestley edged away from Hide, but Hide just pulled him back to his original position. “It’s okay! There was no shame in being defeated by you! I was a fool, and you, as the veteran, made me pay for my foolishness.”
“That’s right!” Grappled shouted before being shoved back into his seat by those nearby.
Hide pulled Wrestley even closer, however: “But one day, we’ll have to have a rematch, right?”
“Uh…” Wrestley responded nervously. He turned to Roll. “Any chance that was a translation error?”
Roll shook her head. Wrestley sighed. “A-anyone else? Anyone at all? Bruiser?”
Bruiser stood up, scratching at his diaper. “I need to be changed.”
“Please go to the bathroom then, Bruiser!” Wrestley said exasperatedly. “Does anyone have a question for the World Heavyweight Champion? Quite possibly a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?”
Harlow stood up. “So hey man, are you gonna explain that whole Blood/Pride/Death thing, particularly the whole death bit?”
Hide slowly nodded. “This type of match is to be taken very seriously. You must administer a level of violence that the average person could not bear. One must be made to bleed before all else. Whether I go the easy route and deliver the perfect blow to Sebastian’s nose, or allow this war to be prolonged and find other ways to draw out his essence, will ultimately be up to me. But then, that won’t be enough to win; I will then need to apply The Hanged Man and force the bloodied Sebastian to concede the match. But regardless of his concession, there is the battle’s finality: tired, hurt, his blood draining from him at a fast rate, and clinging on to consciousness, for me to once more truly defeat Sebastian, he will have to remain still for a count of 10. For if he doesn’t, the nightmare continues for us all. I could just as easily be the one falling victim to Sebastian’s cruelty. He will do his best to make me suffer. As will I to him.”
Harlow seemed pretty satisfied by that answer.
“I think we have time for one more question.” Wrestley said. Roll meekly raised her hand. Wrestley beckoned her to proceed.
“Do you think you and Sebastian will ever be friends again?”
This question in particular would be the hardest to answer. The physical pain Hide had experienced at the hands of a man he once called friend paled in comparison to the betrayal. It was frustrating that Sebastian would continuously tell Hide that Johnny was the problem, yet Johnny had not betrayed him. They had a rocky start, but Johnny was still with Hide, and Sebastian was gone. He continued to place the blame on his own actions on other people, something Hide considered gutless. Johnny may do things Hide doesn’t necessarily agree with, or place him in circumstances he feels should go a different way, but at the end of the day, Johnny was there… and Sebastian was not.
“No.”
He then walked away from the “podium” and exited the room. Wrestley looked on at the departing champion, then at Roll. All he could do was shrug at her. “We-well, that concludes the Q&A portion of our meeting! Anyway, so, as I was saying earlier, passion is a key component in success, and…”
Outside the “gym”, Harlow had herself emerged, cutting Hide off at the pass. She stood in front of him, grabbing both his shoulders. “Well, this has been fun, but it doesn’t look like Johnny’s gonna be back anytime soon, and it’s all over and done with anyway, so… later! Great speech! Really had me by the cockles. ...Whatever those are.”
Harlow then began to walk away, but stopped just a few feet away. “Oh, hey! Johnny dropped this earlier. I was gonna keep it, but it’s addressed to you, so… here:”
Hide was confused, but took the small package anyway. As Harlow left for real this time, Hide examined the gift. Thankfully, it was written in Japanese:
Hide was surprised; he didn’t recall telling Johnny it was his birthday today, but evidently he must have! As he too began walking away from the SJW Gym, he opened his present.
Hide froze in time as he looked upon the Doraemon bottle opener. Strange feelings began to churn in his stomach and welled upwards. He found his hand began to tremble, and he looked on, as if looking out for Johnny.
“Thank you, Johnny… thank you…”
Another long exhausting day was at long last coming to an end. Each day bled into the other: cold mornings outside, cold evening departures. Luckily, the trek back home was along the railway’s route; in that regard, the job was head and shoulders above those where getting home was a job in and of itself. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves here.
Hideyoshi was busy, hunched over tightening a bolt, making sure it was nice and tight, making sure he did it with maximum safety. He took pride in his job, and it paid well enough for him to provide for his wife and eight-year-old son. He had been working on the rails for several years now, and while the hours weren’t what he’d like them to be, he makes do. It might not be office work, but it was honest work. So, he meticulously ensured everything was done perfectly and with absolute safety consciousness.
It was also a good way to stretch out the final two minutes of his shift.
Hideyoshi gathered his jacket and lunch bag, and just as he was about to punch out, the looming figure of that which all at Seibu Railway feared emerged from the ethers. It was Shinjiro Tanahashi, the Foreman. Shinigami Tanahashi, or Death God Tanahashi, he was called. Well, not to his face, anyway. He was always the bearer of bad news. Hideyoshi could feel his presence without looking, as if the air grew colder than normal all of a sudden.
“Yamashiro-san, I know you’re about to go home for the day, but-”
Hideyoshi shut his eyes and quietly inhaled before turning around to respond. “Yes, boss, what would you like?”
“As it comes closer to the holiday season,” Shinjiro said as if verbally reciting a fax from head office he most definitely received. “The necessity for certain sacrifices to be made will be asked of us all. Traditionally, we have culled hours during this season; the junior members of JR RENGO Japan Railway Trade Unions Confederation are asked to take cuts to their hours.”
“Why couldn’t you have just said ‘union’?” Hideyoshi muttered.
“Pardon me?”
“Ah, I was just saying that I understand what you’re getting at.” Hideyoshi cleverly took advantage of the hard 0f hearing foreman.
“Then we’re on the same page.” Shinigami Tanahashi said, his voice unchanged despite being pleased at the lack of hassle from the young man.
“Yes, sir.”
“I take it you’ve prepared for this inevitability.” the foreman said, already turning to walk away.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” Shinjiro said aloofly. “You’re reliable to not just us but your young family as well.”
“Yes, sir.” Hideyoshi replied the same way as the last two times. He knew Shinjiro was barely paying attention anyway.
“Well. We’ll be seeing you tomorrow.” Shinjiro said, already out of the locker room and back in his office. He closed the door behind him.
“Yes… sir…” Hideyoshi sighed. He reached the exit door, but couldn’t find the strength to do anything but rest his head against it. His eyes shut tight, his breathing began getting out of control, and his hand subconsciously curled into a fist. He then finds himself pounding hard upon the door.
The office door across from him creaked open a bit. “Is everything all right out there, Yamashiro-san?”
Hideyoshi blinked, looking around confused for a second. “U-uh, yes, sir, yes. Just thought I saw a cockroach.”
“Ah.” was all the foreman said as he closed his door anew.
Hideyoshi looked back toward the office door before opening the exit door and stepping out back into the cold cruel world.
When the door opens again, Hideyoshi has now entered his modest apartment. Two bedrooms, one and a half bathrooms, a kitchen and living room barely separated from each other. Deep in the heart of one of the most dangerous neighbourhoods in all of Japan: Kabukicho, Shunjuku. It’s infamy is known the world over. But on the 14th floor, they could safely look at the fearsome world below, safe and sound, if only at least until they left for work or school. The size of the suite, the location of it, it came with a reasonable price tag, something Hideyoshi could afford. It meant his wife Mitsuko had to work part time herself, but they made it work. They had to.
Mitsuko was busy doing dishes, still wearing her NTT docomo uniform. Having been lost in thought, she was startled by the arrival of her husband. She quickly dried her hands and flitted on over to her hardworking man.
“Welcome back!” Mitsuko said as she held onto the side of Hideyoshi’s face, planting a kiss firmly on his cheek before rushing back to the fridge.
“I’m back home.” Hideyoshi said, so tired he said it after the traditional greeting as opposed to before. He removed his shoes, hung up his jacket, and laid his lunch bag onto the counter. As he did, So too did Mitsuko lay down a fancy cheesecake.
“Happy birthday!” her voice was so angelic it almost came out as if sung.
As she said this, the sound of little footsteps drummed up from one room, getting louder and louder… until Hideyoshi was within the merciless grip of…
Kenichi, his tween son. Rambunctious but well-meaning, kind but struggling in school. Unwilling to be too strict on him, considering how strict Hideyoshi’s own father was, they rationalized their lax attitude with saying Kenichi was just eight; there was plenty of time to teach him better studying habits, but you’re only eight once. This was not usual for parents in Japan, however.
“Ken-chan, be gentle with your father - he’s had a long day!” Mitsuko scolded.
“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Hideyoshi said, a wan smile creeping upon his face. Kenichi held on a bit longer as a result. He finally let go, fishing into his pocket for something that he immediately imposed onto his father.
“Happy birthday!” Kenichi said. “It’s a-”
“Don’t tell me what it is before I’ve opened it!” Hideyoshi said as Kenichi’s attention was taken away by the delicious-looking cake. The birthday boy opened his small gift; a Doraemon keychain.
“My favourite anime as a child.” he said, impressed at the thoughtfulness of the gift. It might have been trivial to someone richer, someone less down-to-earth, but to Hideyoshi, this was more than a mere keychain - it was a trip back in time, to when he was Kenichi’s age, sneaking in episodes of the famous robot cat while his father worked or slept. A show hat entertained children around the world for 60 years now. His own father’s favourite anime when he was a child himself! But Hideyoshi’s father, as an adult, forgot who he once was. Hideyoshi vowed to never forget. He never did.
He knelt down to give his son a hug, but Kenichi only half-heartedly hugged back, coveting the fancy cake.
Hideyoshi and Mitsuko both scoffed lightheartedly at their son’s transparent obligations.
“Help your mother out by gathering plates and forks as she cuts this wonderful thing.” Hideyoshi says as he musses Kenichi’s hair. “I’ll go get changed.”
He then excuses himself as his wife and son get to work to celebrate his 26th birthday.
A short while later, Hideyoshi is washing his face, when all of a sudden, the entire bathroom begins to shake. It’s gentle but constant. Hideyoshi braces himself by holding into the sink, just in case. “Of course on my birthday.”
“Daddy! Daddy!” Kenichi cals out as he rushes into the bathroom, tugging on his father’s shirt. “Did you feel that?!”
He properly dries off his face, tossing the towel over his son’s head. “Of course I felt that! It was an earthquake!”
Kenichi giggled as he wrestled to get the towel off. Mitsuko shuffles into view. “Ken-chan, come back and help me! The earthquake’s over.”
He tosses the towel at Hideyoshi before following his mother back to the kitchen. When they were out of earshot, he sighs, “I hate earthquakes.”
A minute later, he’s reunited with his family. They try to sing “Happy birthday” in unison, but Kenichi is distracted by - you guessed it - the fabulous cheesecake. Custom-decorated with Doraemon wrestling legendary Japanese wrestler Angelino Inoue, the raspberry-coconut cheesecake was truly a sight to behold!
After “singing”, they all collectively tucked into the delight, Kenichi more than his parents, of course.
“So dear,” Mitsuko began, “Did they do anything nice for you at work today?”
“Ha!” Hideyoshi responded, “Of course not. If it’s not related to my work rate, they don’t care. I mean, they care to an extent, but there’s just so many of us there.”
Mitsuko rubs Hideyoshi’s arm in consolation. Between mouthfuls of cake, Kenichi asks, “Do you think you could beat up Angelino Inoue?”
Mitsuko laughed, but Hideyoshi replied, “What kind of question is that? He’s a wrestler, I just work on trains! Even at his age, he’d definitely beat me-”
Kenichi looked disappointed at his father’s response.
“Ah, that is, unless we were wrestling at the railyard.” Hideyoshi recovered. “That’s my environment and I’d make good use of it. Then I’d win.”
Kenichi cheered as he unceremoniously departed the kitchen with the remainder of his cake to do eight-year-old business. Hideyoshi breathed a sigh of relief.
“And how do you like the cake?” Mitsuko asked, already knowing the answer. After all, raspberry-coconut cheesecake was his favourite.
“I love it, especially after the day I’ve had today.”
A worried look came across Mitsuko’s face. She ushered her husband to the couch. He almost dropped his fork in the process.
“Tell me all about it.” Mitsuko requested. But Hideyoshi knew his wife’s requests were never optional.
“I, uh-” Hideyoshi began to say, but how could he tell her that the foreman would be cutting his hours? Probably until February at least? That he failed to save up the money needed to live comfortably for the next few months? That he was so overworked that he neglected to think ahead? They wouldn’t lose their home, and they wouldn’t starve, but it would be a paltry Christmas this year. How can he tell her he failed her and Kenichi? That she might have to try to get more hours at the mobile centre? “Just the usual- but listen, how much did you spend on that cake? It must have cost a fortune to get it designed just so!”
Mitsuko gently slapped his arm, “You’ve been doing that for years now! You never mind how much the cake cost! It’s your birthday!”
“Okay, okay, okay.” Hideyoshi said in defeat. At least he had managed to successfully change the subject. He rose back to his feet. “I left my work vest in the bathroom; I’ll be right back.”
He then excused himself, entering the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
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When the door opened again, he emerged and was now inside the SJW Gym’s foyer. The #1 Hit-Maker Johnny Bonecrusher was already there waiting for him.
“What took you so long?” A banged-up Johnny scolded. Only a day removed from a particularly embarrassing episode of Synergy, he was still a bit shook up and irritated, and he was beginning to question whether downing Tylenol and Zoloft at the same time was actually good for him. “Wrestler McWrestlerington is gonna have you go out there anytime now!”
Alongside Johnny was Harlow Kinsley, someone Johnny was familiar with from their time as coworkers in EWC but was hardly known by The Strong Style Satanist. Noticing Hide’s confused look at the redhead’s presence, he responds, “Oh, right, Hide, this is Harlow, Harlow, this is Hide. Go ahead and shake her hand if you want!”
Hide in fact did so, and the gesture was reciprocated. “Pretty sure I know who the World Champion is, Johnny.” Harlow said.
“Right.” Johnny replied. “I’m admittedly a bit out of it. “Anyway, Hide, she’s here because we’re in talks, you see. She was also keen on confirming the relevance of a wrestling promotion actually called SJW.”
“Thought it was a joke.” She shrugged. “Like, ‘Oh hey, new gal, did you know this guy - whose name is Wrestley McWrestleface, by the way - runs a fed called SJW?’ Sounds like a rib to me.”
“Yeah, well,” Johnny sighed, “It’s real, it’s all real, for better or for worse.”
“You did well last night.” Hide addressed the newcomer to the UGWC, “Defeat at the hands of a legend such as Mr. Boolzian is only shameful if the effort wasn’t maximized.”
“Uh.” Harlow’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “Johnny?”
Johnny looked around as he sighed. “Uh, she’s not here yet, huh? Well, uh, I, uh, I caught that he was telling you good job yesterday and then some stuff about Randy. I’m going to guess he was saying something about how he was just on a roll, what with he and Hide here beating Sloane and that no-good, low-down, yella-bellied, panty-waisted, knock-kneed, scum-suckin' pencil-necked geek a week ago. Eh, no big deal; we know what you’re fully capable of, so just shrug off this week.”
“Easy for you to say.” Harlow retorted, though it appeared she actually wasn’t all too bitter about her debut loss.
Johnny pointed at her. Close enough that she had to move his hand away. “No. No. Not easy for me to say! Not easy for me to say at all! Did you not see what happened last night? Didn’t you? Everyone and their dog just had to stick their noses where they didn’t belong in a collective last gambit to give that, that aforementioned no-good, low-down, yella-bellied, panty-waist-”
“Yeah, okay, go on though?” Harlow rightfully interrupted.
Johnny growled a bit, but was too mellowed out by the drugs to do anything but continue. “To Sebastian! To Sebastian. They all colluded to ensure Sebastian wins next week at Horizons!”
It wasn’t that Harlow didn’t believe the person she was considering putting all her trust into, but… “They… all… colluded?”
“They all colluded!!” Johnny exclaimed. “Too many people, too many people want to see me fail, and if that means getting the UGWC World Heavyweight Championship off of ‘Deathwish’ Hide Yamazaki, then they’ll try it! They’ll stack the deck, put all the aces on top, opt to go first, and, and, hope and pray that’s enough to finally be rid of us!”
Harlow raised an eyebrow, “You guys are leaving if Hide loses?”
“Aha!” Johnny exclaimed as he pointed at her again. And not learning from last time, close enough that she had to move his hand away. This time it was more like a cat batting away a toy. “That’s what they’d want! That’s what they’d looooove! They’re expecting things that happened in the past to ensure we go away, maybe for a while, maybe for good, but the joke’s on them, because we are the UGWC! We’ve been here for close to two years now, and while year one was, eh, year two rewrote the script!”
“And what’s gonna happen in year three?” Harlow inquired.
“The future is uncertain and should remain that way.” Hide chimed in.
Harlow looked at Hide, then expectantly at Johnny. “He said I was right, that I’m always right.”
Harlow looked back at Hide, who just shook his head.
“All right, he said something about the future being a mystery, I think.”
“I’m gonna go with the less crazy answer then.” she said as she tried taking a peek beyond the door that led to the gymnasium proper.
“The bottom line is this:” Johnny said as he paused to shine Hide’s belt that rested over his shoulder. “We live in a world where everyone wants us to fail, but that world is the same one we rule! Try as they might, they can’t really bring us down in meaningful ways, so they just throw whatever at the wall and hope it sticks. Oh sure, some things have clung onto said wall for a while, but their fate’s the same as everything else: it always slinks to the bottom.”
“Okay, I hear what you’re saying, but-” Harlow said in a tone you’d use on a child you didn’t want to upset. “Hide’s not going up against just anyone, is he? Like, isn’t this Sebastian guy your arch-nemesis and all that?”
A scowl washed over Johnny’s face. “Sebastian is the King of the Sonsabitches, and the largest obstacle in our way. I seriously thought we were done with him for good, but he gave up a chance at potentially becoming a grand slam champion just for one last chance to establish himself as the biggest asshole in all of professional wrestling. But not on my watch, pal!”
Hide merely growled at the utterage of his former friend’s name. Johnny references his phone briefly. “Anyway, it’s time. Go on out there and make us proud, Hide!”
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Then Hide opens the door, and he’s met with a sea of young would-be big-time wrestlers and their trainer, as well as owner of Supreme Jersey Wrestling, Wrestley McWrestleface. The SJW Gym was in fact not a gym inasmuch as it was a yoga studio that used to be a garage, but everyone in attendance’s demeanours didn’t reflect the one-step-below humble training grounds for the future of the future of professional wrestlers’ preliminary opponents.
“Oh!” Wrestley gasped. He gives Hide a thumbs up and motions for him and Harlow to take a seat as he continues speaking to his new class. “Anyway, like I was saying, telling a story is important, but the story is just that much more intriguing when told by an interesting character! This is why we spent so much time developing your characters before we got into any actual training.”
And interesting characters were to be found here indeed:
Among them were Ben Slapiro, an obnoxiously nerdy heel who claims that “Facts don’t care about your feelings and neither do my fists!”
Termite Queen, a husky woman face wearing a termite-styled costume and a crown. Her backside has a large and uncomfortable termite queen abdomen jutting out of it. Despite being told this was impractical, she just wants to wrestle some more to make sure.
Cop Doctor, a relatively older student whose gimmick is he’s a face or a heel dependent on whether he’s more doctory or more policemany during the match. Certain locales might decide all that for him, though.
Bruiser Baby, a heavyset heel dressed like a baby who uses their rattle as a foreign object to win matches. He will occasionally like to insert stink bombs into his diaper so that when an opponent kicks him in the ass, they break the bombs in the process. Wrestley is going to need to consider putting him on last.
Grappley McGrapplehead, a Wrestley McWrestleface stan, so obsessed with the SJW owner that people wonder if it’s really a gimmick or if they should call the police. For the time being, he’s a face.
And finally, Roll O’Darby, an inline skating enthusiast, always eager to please the fans and pull off tricks on her way to the ring, but she’s still trying to figure out how to wrestle with her skates on.
Looking on at her environment and all these weird characters, Harlow wonders if she’s really as nutty as she’s been told.
“Because if we figure out what you want to do, we can build your wrestling training around it!” Wrestley said in an upbeat tone that while truly sincere, was perhaps a tad misguided. “I mean, after all, if you want to be a sumo wrestler, we’re not going to up and have you trained to be a luchador, right?”
Everyone nods in agreement. Harlow sees this and nods along. Hide sees Harlow nodding and also nods along.
“Hard work, innovative ideas, and a never-give-up attitude are all you need to succeed!” he said as he pointed at everyone in attendance. He then gave them all a big thumbs up, before looking over at Hide. Admittedly, there was a very faint lingering worry that Hide may at any time suddenly jump up and exact revenge on the SJW owner, but he needed to press on for his students. “Now, I hate to use myself as an example, but considering who our guest is, it’s important you all hear this: last year, I was in the fight of my life with one Hide Yamazaki, and even though I was terrified to enter the ring with him, I proved to the world that perseverance could overcome any obstacle! And in turn, Hide here also persevered and look at him now: he’s the Unified Global Wrestling Coalition World Heavyweight Champion! All things are possible, if you put your mind to it! Now, let’s actually have him come up here so he can tell you himself! Let’s have a big round of applause for ‘Deathwish’ Hide Yamazaki!”
Everyone in attendance cheers, and puzzlingly so does Hide himself. Harlow nudges him to go up to the makeshift podium made up of two stacks of milk crates. Wrestley shakes hands with Hide before taking Hide’s seat for himself. The World Champion stands there, uncertain what he’s supposed to do.
Wrestley turns to Harlow and whispers, “Didn’t he prepare a speech?”
“You’re asking the wrong gal here, Wesley.” Harlow shrugged.
“It’s Wrestley - and where’s Johnny and his translator?” he asked with a bit of a worried tone.
“Oh… that.” Harlow responded. “See, the thing about that is… she got lost on her way here and Johnny’s out looking for her.”
Wrestley’s mouth slowly goes agape.
“Anyway, good luck with that!” Harlow says as she slaps Wrestley on the back.
Wrestley immediately jumps back up to his feet. “Uhh, anyone here by any chance speaks Japanese?”
A few hands go up.
“And wants to translate for Hide?”
All but one hand remains up: Roll O’Darby, a real weeaboo if ever there was one. She wheeled on over to Hide’s side. Hide observes this young weirdo for a few moments before giving her a nod of acknowledgement. Wrestley motions for them to begin.
“It wasn’t that long ago that my new career began. I wasn’t always a rustler. I used to be a-”
“Wait,” Wrestley interrupted, “Did you mean ‘wrestler’?”
Roll cringed, “...Yes.”
“Okay. Okay, it’s okay! You’re doing great.” Roll’s boss said, trying to keep her confidence up. “Keep going!”
“I used to work in a railyard back in Saipan.”
“How did she get ‘Saipan’ out of ‘Japan’?!” Harlow whispered to Wrestley incredulously. Wrestley shushed her.
“I never had any interest in becoming a professional wrestler, but I used to watch it when I was younger. My favourite wrestler was Angelino Inoue-”
Roll and Roll alone pops for that name. While it was true Angelico was a major star, the younger crowd were more into guys like Shinnosuke Tanemura and BENTO. Hide pats her on the back.
“Anyway, I never saw my furniture as being here with you all today. I-”
Wrestley sighed at the utterance of “furniture” instead of “future”. Harlow suppressed her laughter as best as she could. But Hide had hesitated and for good reason; was his history relevant to these strangers?”
“Four years ago, there was a terrible earthquake where I lived. It was so violent it destroyed my home… and I… lost my wife and my son as a result.”
The murmuring stopped; the room was dead silent. Even Harlow was left to process what was being told to her.
“I don’t know how I survived, but sometimes I wished I hadn’t. I woke up in a hospital, and was later transferred to a facility that tried to help me cope with my new reality. But besides my heart and soul, my mind had shattered. I was left to spend the remainder of my days somewhere I couldn’t leave. I counted the seconds, the minutes, the hours, the days… until I’d be with Mitsuko and Kenichi again.”
Some people began to tear up at the sad tale. This isn’t what they expected when they were told they’d be given advice by the #1 guy in the UGWC. Roll herself began to choke up and required a moment to compose herself. Hide patted her on the back again, nodding at her in a clumsy attempt to console her.
“But I’m not telling you this to sadden you. Let me finish. You see, one day, I was visited by a Canadian who I was assured was a true wrestling legend. I do recall hearing of his time in a Japanese wrestling organization called NJFC, and he was one of their top stars. That man was Johnny Bonecrusher.”
There was a mixed reaction at the name of the controversial manager.
“At first, his intentions were selfish ones, but as time progressed, we became closer, and he truly helped me become the woman I am today. I no longer mourn my family, but rather, I fight every day to make them proud of me. In this way, we all must act. If we allow ourselves to be consumed by the things we cannot charge, we will never move forward. No door will open for us; we must sting it open or push it open ourselves!”
“Man, change, swing.” Harlow muttered to herself.
“You don’t have to decide at this very moment, but you will have to decide eventually: will you fall to the ground and give up… or will you steel yourselves and press on? The rewards will be apparent, and a penis will follow.”
The class, Wrestley, and eventually Harlow herself (after the laughter of the horribly translated “happiness” subsided) stand up and applaud the inspirational speech. Hide doesn’t understand what he feels was common sense was worthy of this reaction, but he doesn’t resist their appreciation.
Wrestley rejoined Hide up at the “podium”, shaking the champion’s hand again. Once the cheers subsided, Wrestley began to speak. “Now, Hide’s obviously a busy guy, but before he has to go, he’s also agreed to answer some of your questions!”
Countless hands shoot up. Wrestley points to Termite Queen. “Bzzzzzzhow did you feel when you heard Sebastian Everett-Bryce-”
“The third!!” everyone else shouts.
“The third! Bzzzzzzhow did you feel when you found out he’d use his Battleground prize to challenge you for the World Heavyweight Title at Horizons?”
“Considering his obsession with what I own,” Hide began, “I shouldn’t have been as surprised as I was. We seem to forever be interlocked in an unending struggle. It will never end until one of us is dead.”
“Do termites buzz?” Harlow asked seriously.
“Anyone else?” Wrestley asked. He points at Cop Doctor.
“Good evening, citizen. Are you eating your apples? Are you keeping your nose clean? I’ve got my eye on you!”
“Uh.” Hide said, unsure he was even being asked questions. “Yes and yes?”
Cop Doctor nodded as he pointed two fingers at his eyes and back at Hide himself, before sitting back down.
“Anyone else?” Wrestley asked again before singling out Ben Slapiro.
“Uh, yeah, I’d just like you know if you in fact have a valid working visa?”
Everyone else boos the tasteless question.
“What? What? It’s a valid question! It was just an innocent question! ICE is just a phone call away, you know!”
Everyone throws stuff at Ben until he conceded and sits back down.
“Let’s hear from Grappley instead, huh?” Wrestley asked Hide.
“Hi! Hello! And greetings!” Grappley said as he bounded to his feet. He appears not unlike a man who has done nothing but drink coffee for the past several hours. “I just wanted to know how it felt to fall at the hands of the great and incomparable Wrestley McWrestleface?”
Wrestley edged away from Hide, but Hide just pulled him back to his original position. “It’s okay! There was no shame in being defeated by you! I was a fool, and you, as the veteran, made me pay for my foolishness.”
“That’s right!” Grappled shouted before being shoved back into his seat by those nearby.
Hide pulled Wrestley even closer, however: “But one day, we’ll have to have a rematch, right?”
“Uh…” Wrestley responded nervously. He turned to Roll. “Any chance that was a translation error?”
Roll shook her head. Wrestley sighed. “A-anyone else? Anyone at all? Bruiser?”
Bruiser stood up, scratching at his diaper. “I need to be changed.”
“Please go to the bathroom then, Bruiser!” Wrestley said exasperatedly. “Does anyone have a question for the World Heavyweight Champion? Quite possibly a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?”
Harlow stood up. “So hey man, are you gonna explain that whole Blood/Pride/Death thing, particularly the whole death bit?”
Hide slowly nodded. “This type of match is to be taken very seriously. You must administer a level of violence that the average person could not bear. One must be made to bleed before all else. Whether I go the easy route and deliver the perfect blow to Sebastian’s nose, or allow this war to be prolonged and find other ways to draw out his essence, will ultimately be up to me. But then, that won’t be enough to win; I will then need to apply The Hanged Man and force the bloodied Sebastian to concede the match. But regardless of his concession, there is the battle’s finality: tired, hurt, his blood draining from him at a fast rate, and clinging on to consciousness, for me to once more truly defeat Sebastian, he will have to remain still for a count of 10. For if he doesn’t, the nightmare continues for us all. I could just as easily be the one falling victim to Sebastian’s cruelty. He will do his best to make me suffer. As will I to him.”
Harlow seemed pretty satisfied by that answer.
“I think we have time for one more question.” Wrestley said. Roll meekly raised her hand. Wrestley beckoned her to proceed.
“Do you think you and Sebastian will ever be friends again?”
This question in particular would be the hardest to answer. The physical pain Hide had experienced at the hands of a man he once called friend paled in comparison to the betrayal. It was frustrating that Sebastian would continuously tell Hide that Johnny was the problem, yet Johnny had not betrayed him. They had a rocky start, but Johnny was still with Hide, and Sebastian was gone. He continued to place the blame on his own actions on other people, something Hide considered gutless. Johnny may do things Hide doesn’t necessarily agree with, or place him in circumstances he feels should go a different way, but at the end of the day, Johnny was there… and Sebastian was not.
“No.”
He then walked away from the “podium” and exited the room. Wrestley looked on at the departing champion, then at Roll. All he could do was shrug at her. “We-well, that concludes the Q&A portion of our meeting! Anyway, so, as I was saying earlier, passion is a key component in success, and…”
Outside the “gym”, Harlow had herself emerged, cutting Hide off at the pass. She stood in front of him, grabbing both his shoulders. “Well, this has been fun, but it doesn’t look like Johnny’s gonna be back anytime soon, and it’s all over and done with anyway, so… later! Great speech! Really had me by the cockles. ...Whatever those are.”
Harlow then began to walk away, but stopped just a few feet away. “Oh, hey! Johnny dropped this earlier. I was gonna keep it, but it’s addressed to you, so… here:”
Hide was confused, but took the small package anyway. As Harlow left for real this time, Hide examined the gift. Thankfully, it was written in Japanese:
“Happy birthday, Hide! I don’t know how old you are, but anyway, enjoy. You better enjoy it, anyway!
Yours In Wrestling,
Johnny Bonecrusher”
Hide was surprised; he didn’t recall telling Johnny it was his birthday today, but evidently he must have! As he too began walking away from the SJW Gym, he opened his present.
Hide froze in time as he looked upon the Doraemon bottle opener. Strange feelings began to churn in his stomach and welled upwards. He found his hand began to tremble, and he looked on, as if looking out for Johnny.
“Thank you, Johnny… thank you…”
