Post by Midori Miyamoto on Jan 18, 2019 22:45:47 GMT
The blistering sound of flesh colliding with flesh drowned out the gentle hum of the building’s central heating unit coming to life. Most of the time, the Bluesummer Dojo would have been bustling with students and trainees. Heat would have been a must. But the dojo wasn’t packed with people that evening. A rare off day.
Nonetheless, the audio-visual room happened to be occupied.
A once frigid room became comfortable and toasty as Saint Saito leaned back in her seat. The old couch creaked and wailed with each movement. She reclined back even further and placed her outstretched boot on the side table in front of the couch.
“Babe,” Saint Saito called out as she turned her head in Rio’s direction. “Is this really necessary?” she asked. Blackened and weighted bags made it difficult for her to keep eyes open. The result of a full day’s worth of training. “You really think you’re going to learn something new by watching this again?”
Rio’s eyes remained fixated on the thirty-two inch Sony that was in front of her. “Shhh,” she responded. Tension creases manifested on Saito’s forehead. An audible sigh freed itself from Saito’s body as Rio crept towards the couch’s edge.
That scene had looped over and over again in Rio’s mind. She watched it on her phone about twenty times as a well. It was all that the young woman could think about on the plane ride back to Japan.
Saito’s final reserves of energy dissipated into the atmosphere as she let out a yawn. Clasped hands behind her head proved a decent resting place. “Stop obsessing over it,” Satio said. Her normally rambunctious tone was replaced by a softer one. “We’ll get those fuckers. Stop stressing.” Her weighted eyes closed shut.
Her words sailed through the air and reached Rio’s ears, but Ms. Kurokawa didn’t stop watching the footage. Her iris’ stayed true to the images on the TV. Her knuckles became the color of a ghost as she clenched her fist. She could feel her core temperature rising, and it wasn’t due to the heating system.
In her enraged state, Rio never heard the gym open. Quiet footsteps were furthered masked by JET’s commentators.
Ayaka Hironaka found herself pressed up against the doorframe within a matter of minutes. She brushed a tuft of black hair out of her eyes so that she could assess the situation at hand. Those famous eyes. They could turn Hades into a tundra.
“The obnoxious one is knocked the hell out,” Ayaka said to herself. “Typical.” Folded arms rested upon Ayaka’s chest as her gaze moved towards Rio. “And my granddaughter looks like she’s ready to stab up everyone on sight. I’d probably encourage that in most cases. But that type of blind rage won’t help her in this match.”
She’d seen enough. Ayaka pushed off the doorframe and entered into the room. Her right index finger slammed against the Sony’s side power button.
Whatever spell the device had over Rio was broken.
“Granddaughter,” Ayaka said as she moved in of Rio. “We need to have a talk. Now.”
The inner confines of that enchanted chamber resembled a landscape’s brush strokes. Its dimensions were as far and wide as the eye could see. It was a vacuum, void of natural furnishings and fixtures. A sterile white glow bounced off the floor and became the air’s slave. It was a barren space, fit for an introvert or a nihilist.
And in the midst of that emptiness sat a black metal chair. And atop that black metal chair sat a woman. Rio Kurokawa. Her crimson pants suit blended nicely with the black metal. Her hair flowed freely and rested behind her shoulders.
Some semblance of a smile resided on her face before she spoke in Japanese. “Kayla. Roxy. You two made an idiotic mistake at JET Fourteen.” Rio’s voice was as calm and airy as the particle that floated throughout the room. Her words appeared at the bottom in English. “And the sad thing is, you two don’t even know the gravity of what you’ve done.”
She paused for a moment. “The stage for Collision Course had already been set. Our match had already been set. And your fates?” A gentle shrug followed. “I’d say your fates were relatively safe.”
The young woman nodded her head. “Things were going so perfectly for you two before you interfered and attacked us. Saint Saito and I were going serve you up a forceful, hard-hitting match. It’s our specialty, of course.
“Would you two have lost? Lost those precious Lethal Tag Team Championships? Probably.”
A chuckle escaped her. “Believe it or not, Saito and I weren’t put into this match because we look cute. We weren’t put into this match to be warm bodies. Quite the opposite, really. We were slated in this spot because we have Master’s degrees in kicking ass. We’ve also got a pretty healthy appetite for championship gold.” Rio’s lips curled into a slight smile as she shook her head from left to right. “You two might have gotten beat and battered. But at least your pride would have been intact. At least you could have held your heads up high—”
The right side of her lips nearly touched the ceiling, which formed a wicked smirk.
“But that’s not an option, not anymore.”
Her right leg extended into the air and folded neatly over her left one. Her hands found their way into her lap.
“For a long time, I just couldn’t get the images of that attack out of my mind. Your assault kept playing over and over in my mind. And when I’d sit down to relax or try to watch television? My body kept urging me to view the footage.
“No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t get it out of my mind. It was nearly driving me mad—”
A bout of silence floated through the room.
“And then I had a little conversation with my grandmother.”
Rio’s speech paused for a moment. “Huh,” she said. “I imagine you both are probably ignorant when it comes to nuances of Joshi wrestling. Let me fill you in.” The thought of her gram’s legacy caused her smirk to reappear. “Ayaka Hironaka.” Her name reverberated. “Her peers described her as ‘terrifying.’ She was a dangerous woman with an unquenchable lust for violence. People despised her for her skill. And they also disliked her attitude. Championships didn’t interest her; the thrill of conquering someone who thought they were at the top of their game made her salivate.”
There was a small lull before she spoke again. “She was the one who trained me, along with my father. And when I need assistance or guidance, she’s the one of the few that I turn to.” Rio tilted her head. “She pulled me aside and spoke to me a few days ago.
“And do you know what we discussed?”
Her inquiry was rhetorical in nature.
“Obsession.”
Another impactful word that lingered in the air like smog. Rio nodded her head as she began to elaborate.
“It’s a powerful, double-edged sword. Blind obsession and rage can cripple a woman. It can tip you over the cliff and send you spiraling into the abyss of insanity—”
The snapping of her fingers rang out like a shotgun.
“However, a wise woman is able to redirect that obsession and the feelings attached to it. That aggression and energy become a potent spear that can impale the heart of anyone who stands in the way.
“And after hearing my grandmother speak those words, everything started to click in my brain.” An audible pop resulted as Rio clicked her tongue against her cheek. “To sit a lament over Roxy and Kayla for so long was foolish. At that moment, I knew what Saito and I needed to do. Stop agonizing over the attack, and start outlining how we are going to murder you two in the ring.”
A soft laugh escaped Rio’s mouth. “Kayla? Roxy? I’m curious about something.
“When this match Collision Course was announced, how much real research did you do on Saito and I? You gave a brief summary on my family, which you probably read online somewhere. You made a generalization about Saito. But, did you view any sort of film? Was your investigation substantive?”
That soft laughter turned into and billowing guffaw. “No. Of course not. You two naively jumped in balls deep. You assumed injuring other tag teams would serve to intimidate us. Yeah, we viewed your matches.” It took a few seconds for her to regain her composure. “Let me fill you in on something.
“Ultimately, a couple of knocks to the head won’t harm Saito and I. Your attack made me angry. Your attack pissed me off. But as you both witnessed, I got up that evening, yes?” She shook her head. “There’s a reason for that. Saito and I? We weren’t pampered. We weren’t spoiled. For us, the path to becoming a wrestler was paved with beatings, blood, and sacrifices. We watched peers drop to the floor. We saw friends fall to the wayside.
“But Saito and I? We emerged victorious. We were able to proudly call ourselves Joshi.”
Rio nodded her head. “Americans are soft when it comes to wrestling. You don’t know what it truly means to struggle. That’s why you have to resort to shock tactics to try and send a message, right, Roxy?
“However, we do know the struggle. There’s nothing that you two can do to us that we haven’t already withstood—
“However, we can a hell of a lot of things to you.
“We could pummel you until the Nile River starts flowing down your face. We could drop you on your neck and force you to contemplate life and existence. We can knee you in the face so hard that you two will leave San Fran and go home screaming to mother and father.”
There was another moment of silence.
“Understand this, Saito and I won’t fold up like Wolfgang Symphony. We won’t shatter like Bethany Sharpe. And we certainly won’t lay down like all the teams that you’ve faced thus far.
“I don’t care how conniving think you are. You don’t care how dangerous you hype yourself up to be. I refuse to back down from you; and so does Saito.”
Rio’s chuckled reappeared. “Kayla? Roxy? When that bell rings and you are both laying there, pained, titleless—I want you both to remember something...
“This is the fight you wanted.”
Air filled her lung as she took in a deep breath and settle down.
“And Saito and I are more than willing to oblige.”
Her right hand rose to her face. She blew a gentle kiss—a sign of disrespect in this instance.
“I’ll see you both very, very soon.”
Nonetheless, the audio-visual room happened to be occupied.
A once frigid room became comfortable and toasty as Saint Saito leaned back in her seat. The old couch creaked and wailed with each movement. She reclined back even further and placed her outstretched boot on the side table in front of the couch.
“Babe,” Saint Saito called out as she turned her head in Rio’s direction. “Is this really necessary?” she asked. Blackened and weighted bags made it difficult for her to keep eyes open. The result of a full day’s worth of training. “You really think you’re going to learn something new by watching this again?”
Rio’s eyes remained fixated on the thirty-two inch Sony that was in front of her. “Shhh,” she responded. Tension creases manifested on Saito’s forehead. An audible sigh freed itself from Saito’s body as Rio crept towards the couch’s edge.
A pained Rio sat awkwardly in the corner of the ring. A turn of the head gave her a moments notice as Kimiko Hayabusa ran towards her. Rio needed to move, but her body wouldn’t allow her to. Both of Kimiko’s knees collided with Rio’s head. Her body started to slump over. But as she hit the mat, Rio saw someone slide into the ring. She also saw the glimmering championship belts in their hands.
CRACK!
One solitary shot to the head sent Rio crumbling to the mat. Saint Saito? She’d been more rested. It took three or four blows to down her. Rio didn’t see her tag team get attacked—she heard a thud as her body hit the ground.
CRACK!
One solitary shot to the head sent Rio crumbling to the mat. Saint Saito? She’d been more rested. It took three or four blows to down her. Rio didn’t see her tag team get attacked—she heard a thud as her body hit the ground.
Saito’s final reserves of energy dissipated into the atmosphere as she let out a yawn. Clasped hands behind her head proved a decent resting place. “Stop obsessing over it,” Satio said. Her normally rambunctious tone was replaced by a softer one. “We’ll get those fuckers. Stop stressing.” Her weighted eyes closed shut.
Her words sailed through the air and reached Rio’s ears, but Ms. Kurokawa didn’t stop watching the footage. Her iris’ stayed true to the images on the TV. Her knuckles became the color of a ghost as she clenched her fist. She could feel her core temperature rising, and it wasn’t due to the heating system.
In her enraged state, Rio never heard the gym open. Quiet footsteps were furthered masked by JET’s commentators.
Ayaka Hironaka found herself pressed up against the doorframe within a matter of minutes. She brushed a tuft of black hair out of her eyes so that she could assess the situation at hand. Those famous eyes. They could turn Hades into a tundra.
“The obnoxious one is knocked the hell out,” Ayaka said to herself. “Typical.” Folded arms rested upon Ayaka’s chest as her gaze moved towards Rio. “And my granddaughter looks like she’s ready to stab up everyone on sight. I’d probably encourage that in most cases. But that type of blind rage won’t help her in this match.”
She’d seen enough. Ayaka pushed off the doorframe and entered into the room. Her right index finger slammed against the Sony’s side power button.
Whatever spell the device had over Rio was broken.
“Granddaughter,” Ayaka said as she moved in of Rio. “We need to have a talk. Now.”
__________
The inner confines of that enchanted chamber resembled a landscape’s brush strokes. Its dimensions were as far and wide as the eye could see. It was a vacuum, void of natural furnishings and fixtures. A sterile white glow bounced off the floor and became the air’s slave. It was a barren space, fit for an introvert or a nihilist.
And in the midst of that emptiness sat a black metal chair. And atop that black metal chair sat a woman. Rio Kurokawa. Her crimson pants suit blended nicely with the black metal. Her hair flowed freely and rested behind her shoulders.
Some semblance of a smile resided on her face before she spoke in Japanese. “Kayla. Roxy. You two made an idiotic mistake at JET Fourteen.” Rio’s voice was as calm and airy as the particle that floated throughout the room. Her words appeared at the bottom in English. “And the sad thing is, you two don’t even know the gravity of what you’ve done.”
She paused for a moment. “The stage for Collision Course had already been set. Our match had already been set. And your fates?” A gentle shrug followed. “I’d say your fates were relatively safe.”
The young woman nodded her head. “Things were going so perfectly for you two before you interfered and attacked us. Saint Saito and I were going serve you up a forceful, hard-hitting match. It’s our specialty, of course.
“Would you two have lost? Lost those precious Lethal Tag Team Championships? Probably.”
A chuckle escaped her. “Believe it or not, Saito and I weren’t put into this match because we look cute. We weren’t put into this match to be warm bodies. Quite the opposite, really. We were slated in this spot because we have Master’s degrees in kicking ass. We’ve also got a pretty healthy appetite for championship gold.” Rio’s lips curled into a slight smile as she shook her head from left to right. “You two might have gotten beat and battered. But at least your pride would have been intact. At least you could have held your heads up high—”
The right side of her lips nearly touched the ceiling, which formed a wicked smirk.
“But that’s not an option, not anymore.”
Her right leg extended into the air and folded neatly over her left one. Her hands found their way into her lap.
“For a long time, I just couldn’t get the images of that attack out of my mind. Your assault kept playing over and over in my mind. And when I’d sit down to relax or try to watch television? My body kept urging me to view the footage.
“No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t get it out of my mind. It was nearly driving me mad—”
A bout of silence floated through the room.
“And then I had a little conversation with my grandmother.”
Rio’s speech paused for a moment. “Huh,” she said. “I imagine you both are probably ignorant when it comes to nuances of Joshi wrestling. Let me fill you in.” The thought of her gram’s legacy caused her smirk to reappear. “Ayaka Hironaka.” Her name reverberated. “Her peers described her as ‘terrifying.’ She was a dangerous woman with an unquenchable lust for violence. People despised her for her skill. And they also disliked her attitude. Championships didn’t interest her; the thrill of conquering someone who thought they were at the top of their game made her salivate.”
There was a small lull before she spoke again. “She was the one who trained me, along with my father. And when I need assistance or guidance, she’s the one of the few that I turn to.” Rio tilted her head. “She pulled me aside and spoke to me a few days ago.
“And do you know what we discussed?”
Her inquiry was rhetorical in nature.
“Obsession.”
Another impactful word that lingered in the air like smog. Rio nodded her head as she began to elaborate.
“It’s a powerful, double-edged sword. Blind obsession and rage can cripple a woman. It can tip you over the cliff and send you spiraling into the abyss of insanity—”
The snapping of her fingers rang out like a shotgun.
“However, a wise woman is able to redirect that obsession and the feelings attached to it. That aggression and energy become a potent spear that can impale the heart of anyone who stands in the way.
“And after hearing my grandmother speak those words, everything started to click in my brain.” An audible pop resulted as Rio clicked her tongue against her cheek. “To sit a lament over Roxy and Kayla for so long was foolish. At that moment, I knew what Saito and I needed to do. Stop agonizing over the attack, and start outlining how we are going to murder you two in the ring.”
A soft laugh escaped Rio’s mouth. “Kayla? Roxy? I’m curious about something.
“When this match Collision Course was announced, how much real research did you do on Saito and I? You gave a brief summary on my family, which you probably read online somewhere. You made a generalization about Saito. But, did you view any sort of film? Was your investigation substantive?”
That soft laughter turned into and billowing guffaw. “No. Of course not. You two naively jumped in balls deep. You assumed injuring other tag teams would serve to intimidate us. Yeah, we viewed your matches.” It took a few seconds for her to regain her composure. “Let me fill you in on something.
“Ultimately, a couple of knocks to the head won’t harm Saito and I. Your attack made me angry. Your attack pissed me off. But as you both witnessed, I got up that evening, yes?” She shook her head. “There’s a reason for that. Saito and I? We weren’t pampered. We weren’t spoiled. For us, the path to becoming a wrestler was paved with beatings, blood, and sacrifices. We watched peers drop to the floor. We saw friends fall to the wayside.
“But Saito and I? We emerged victorious. We were able to proudly call ourselves Joshi.”
Rio nodded her head. “Americans are soft when it comes to wrestling. You don’t know what it truly means to struggle. That’s why you have to resort to shock tactics to try and send a message, right, Roxy?
“However, we do know the struggle. There’s nothing that you two can do to us that we haven’t already withstood—
“However, we can a hell of a lot of things to you.
“We could pummel you until the Nile River starts flowing down your face. We could drop you on your neck and force you to contemplate life and existence. We can knee you in the face so hard that you two will leave San Fran and go home screaming to mother and father.”
There was another moment of silence.
“Understand this, Saito and I won’t fold up like Wolfgang Symphony. We won’t shatter like Bethany Sharpe. And we certainly won’t lay down like all the teams that you’ve faced thus far.
“I don’t care how conniving think you are. You don’t care how dangerous you hype yourself up to be. I refuse to back down from you; and so does Saito.”
Rio’s chuckled reappeared. “Kayla? Roxy? When that bell rings and you are both laying there, pained, titleless—I want you both to remember something...
“This is the fight you wanted.”
Air filled her lung as she took in a deep breath and settle down.
“And Saito and I are more than willing to oblige.”
Her right hand rose to her face. She blew a gentle kiss—a sign of disrespect in this instance.
“I’ll see you both very, very soon.”
FIN.