Post by JNK on Mar 6, 2023 22:10:53 GMT
EYES FORWARD, GO!
In her dreams, she saw him often.
She remembered the night that they escaped.
The rain beating down upon their shoulders, the chill in the air, the single gunshot that rang out behind them as they walked away from the warehouse, remodeled and converted to facilitate Kota Amasaki's underground idol ring-- it all felt like a distant memory, even then as Hideo Chiba held her close, his green canvas jacket pulled tightly around her shoulders. The aging deathmatch wrestler, long estranged from his own daughter, found a new one in Junko Souma, escorting her away from her prison for the last several years of her young life. His bleach blonde hair clung to his haggard features. His breathing was labored and ragged and there was a noticeable hitch in his step, the result of having his ass kicked by multiple Yakuza hard men.
"Your hand," Junko said as her eyes wandered toward his left, to the bandage shoddily applied to his pinky, soaked through with blood, bright red. "Are you okay, Chiba-san?"
"Talk later." He grit his teeth as he spoke, pushing her along. He could hear men in the distance, shouting in Japanese. He had no intention of engaging them again, even if he and the girl were free to leave as Boss Sato claimed. "For now, just walk. Keep your eyes forward. Go."
She sat on the edge of her bed, heart still pounding in her chest, threatening to burst free and escape. Sometimes, Junko wondered if she would be better off if it did. The curtain in the Colorado motel room moved ever-so-slightly with assistance from the rickety, noisy air conditioner beneath it. With each graceless shift, the moon peeked into Junko's room, allowing streams of pale light to flicker in her eyes. With one hand, she felt her chest through her white tank top and took deep breaths with purpose, encouraging herself to calm down but it was never easy when she dreamt of him. The curtain moved again, this time significantly. The moonlight touched the bedside table and drew her eye.
She saw the black box resting there before the curtain fell back into place, trapping the moon and its annoying light outside once again. Her eyes narrowed and she took another deep breath.
It was hard not to dream about him-- think of him, even.
Even now, over a year removed from his death, he was still with her. "I am finally going to do it, teacher," she said aloud to the box she clutched in both hands. Clad in the green canvas jacket that once belonged to him, she walked along the edge of Granby Lake, admiring the stillness, enjoying the cool breeze on her face. "I told you so many times that I would become the number one deathmatch idol in all of puroresu... until now, I have not received the opportunity to prove myself."
She approached the picnic area, vacant... no sign of life in any direction. Bringing the black box up, closer to her face, she placed a gentle kiss on it before setting it down on the wooden picnic table. She looked out across the lake, hands on her hips. The wind blew her silver and blue hair about. In vain, she pushed her hair behind her ear only to have it blown free again seconds later.
"Until now, I was not ready," she nodded her head, assuring herself. "I was, as you said, a stupid child... only fit for taking a beating. I assure you, teacher, that is no longer the case. I have grown much since you last saw me... and with my most recent performances, I have earned the attention of those who would give me the opportunity that I dreamt of."
The corner of her mouth twitched, the beginning of a smile.
"You would hate them, teacher," she fought the smile that threatened to break out across her face. "I have only spoken to him once through a translator but Casanova-san is exactly the kind of boy you would get worked up over until you drank enough to forget he existed... and then you would begin drinking again the moment you woke up and remembered his face-- and it is a memorable face, teacher. His scars, the damage he's taken... it's how I knew I was making the right decision."
She turned and placed her hand on the black box containing the ashes of her mentor. She allowed her fingertips to glide along the edges before letting her hand fall back at her side. She took a breath and looked back out toward the lake. The sound of a motorboat rattled off in the distance, breaking the silence. She narrowed her eyes, hoping to see it but it never came into view. Chewing her bottom lip nervously, she huffed.
"It's a tournament."
She let those words hang in the air for a moment.
"They wanted me to be in their deathmatch tournament."
She smiled gently.
"I know I can't win... but it's all I've ever wanted since I met you-- since you found me and pulled me out of that hell. Most of the people in the tournament are more experienced than I am... I've never had a deathmatch, though I've been hurt-- I've bled, I have scars. I think you'd be proud of me for surviving what I have and continuing to look forward. While I began this journey called puroresu so that I could become like my idol, Angel Kandori, it was you who I ultimately looked up to. While you hit me very hard, while you treated me very poorly, I believe this is because you knew that I would be on my own one day. You knew that there would be a time when I could not afford to be a little girl anymore."
She looked down at her right hand, clenching it into a fist.
"I would need to be more than that."
Her knuckles turned white with exertion and she began to feel her fingernails digging into her palm. Opening her hand, at least two of her nails had broken her pale skin.
"I would need to be a fighter... a survivor."
She looked up into the blue sky. Doughy white clouds drift across, obscuring the sun for seconds at a time and casting their shadow over the lake.
"I think that I have become a fighter... I just don't know if I am strong enough yet. Johnny Bacchus, Veronica Strader, Craig Cogan, Datura... these are names that I have heard before. They are names that carry weight, command respect. I must be cautious in my approach when it comes to them."
She cut her eyes in the direction of the box on the table.
"That is what you would tell me to do, right? Otherwise, I will get my ass kicked. I am small and frail, you might say-- and I have a busted knee. I'm sorry that you did not live to see me heal. I think you would have been impressed by my recovery."
She continued to look down at the box as though she expected it to respond in some way, but it doesn't. She averted her eyes, looking down at the grass beneath her black sneakers. Absent-mindedly, she reached into her pocket and removed a small bottle of Tesco Imperial, the same alcohol she witnessed Chiba-san fill himself with during their time in England. She looked at the bottle quizzically before unscrewing the cap and sitting down at the table with her back to the box.
"Or maybe you wouldn't... maybe you wouldn't even notice."
Timidly, she took a drink from the bottle and winced. She coughed and slammed the bottle down next to the box, jarring it and causing it to shift at least an inch.
"Disgusting. Maybe you would ignore me like you're doing now."
She hung her head, leaning forward and resting her forearms on her knees. She stared at the grass, swaying effortlessly back and forth with the breeze.
"You used to tell me... no friends. Don't trust anyone."
She shook her head.
"I never understood until much later, when you were already gone."
She tilted her head upward, looking up into the sky once more.
"Loving something always requires you to not love something else."
She pursed her lips slightly, thinking it over.
"For you and I... that something was puroresu."
She turned around on the wooden bench, facing the table and looking down at the black box in front of her, the bottle of Tesco Imperial next to it.
"That is why you left your daughter in Japan after the death of you wife... that is why I could never succeed as a number one idol, no matter how much Amasaki Kota pushed me or threatened me with violence. It's not... a bad thing to show love, teacher, but I understand now that it is better to put all of your focus and love into one thing that matters. For me, now... it is this Killdozer Cup Tournament. Whether I win or whether I am eliminated in the very first round, all that matters is that I try-- that I do my best."
She picked up the bottle and looked it over, wincing at the thought of taking another drink. She did it anyway, forcing herself to swallow it.
"I will resist defeat with every inch of my body."
And then she took another.
"Can I ask you something, teacher?"
The box sat silently in front of her. Hideo Chiba was stubborn, even in death.
"When did your love and focus turn away from puroresu? Why did you turn your focus toward helping me succeed and achieve my dreams?"
She took another drink. Her eyelids fluttered uncontrollably for a second and a single tear fell from her eye, rolling down her cheek.
"You have taught me many valuable lessons, Chiba-san... but more important than how to take a punch and get back up, I have learned that I must not spread my focus and attention among things that do not matter. I must only focus on the goal in front of me-- eyes forward, go! There will always be time for friends and family later."
She took another drink and leaned forward on the table, propping herself up on one elbow.
"I will honor you with my victory at the Killdozer Cup--"
She took another drink... a big one. She dropped the empty bottle on the table and it clattered to a rest against the box in front of her.
"--or maybe I won't."
She smiled, feeling the warmth wash over her.
"Maybe I will get my ass kicked, like you always said."
She wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands.
"So tired now."
Night.
Junko woke up with a start.
She pried her face away from the picnic table and rubbed her cheek. She took in her surroundings and wondered how everything could possibly be so dark. She could hear the water moving about lackadaisically nearby. She felt around in front of her, discarding the empty bottle on the ground before both hands found the box-- missing the lid. The clouds drifted apart, allowing the moon to bathe the area with pale light. Her eyes widened when she realized the box was empty.
"Junko-chan," came the gruff voice from the edge of Lake Granby. "About time you woke up, lazy ass."
She could see him in the distance, silhouetted against the lake. Nervously, she stood up from the picnic table and wandered toward the figure. He didn't turn around. He didn't move at all. She felt the tall grass brush against her thighs as she drew closer and closer to him. She could smell the Tesco Imperial on him from several feet away--
--or maybe that was her.
Even in the midst of her first drunken stupor, it was hard not to dream about him.
In her dreams, she saw him often.
"Teacher," she said.
