"Joy, Pain, and Sky" | vs. Peter Vaughn
May 18, 2024 12:58:19 GMT -5
Peter Vaughn and Maxwell Mason Stone like this
Post by JNK on May 18, 2024 12:58:19 GMT -5
OOC: I came to TPW on a whim back in March of 2023. I didn't have time for a competitive fed while I was running my own and I was already suffering from severe burnout. On top of that, I'd basically ruined the Junko character in my own mind and wasn't particularly motivated to write anything with her but I told myself "it's only the SEX Cup, I'm not sticking around after I get eliminated anyway" and gave it a shot. Now, nearly fifteen months later, I'm here until the end, having earned my first shot at the International Championship. When all is said and done, win or lose, I'm satisfied with this run. I regained my footing with Junko and learned to love writing her again. Most importantly, I met some great writers here, some I'd even dare to call friends. I want to thank Eric for his kind words and support during my run here. J Mont for the legendary, career defining feud. Knox for gassing me up and making me feel like I was writing in the 2006 all-or-nothing days again. Max Stone for being a shoulder to have nuclear meltdowns on. Dougg for being a great partner to collab with. Tact and Lights Out for being such ridiculously positive influences in this increasingly volatile hobby, and Peter Vaughn for being a great collab partner and letting me take the reins on this angle leading into the final PPV. I wish we'd had more time to really flesh it out and get crazy but there's always down the line. TPW was a great place with a unique vibe that you're not gonna find anywhere else and that's a big reason why I didn't rush to join another place when Eric made the announcement. It's going to take me a while to find a place that's the right fit like TPW, so it might be a bit before you see Junko pop up in another competitive fed. Until then, thanks for the memories.
Junko.
The airport.
Men, women, children... they file past her on the way to their respective terminals, chattering happily amongst one another, excited for their journeys to come. Standing near the center of the vast space, clad in a black jacket over a white tanktop with baggy blue nylon pants, Junko takes in her surroundings, noting the odd lack of security, the bright colors, the dated haircuts... over the loudspeaker, "Just a Girl" by No Doubt plays at low volume, just enough noise to break up the monotony of the murmuring public.
Through the crowd, she sees him approaching.
She walks to meet him, pants swishing with every step.
Matthew "The Raven" Knox stops in front of her, tilting his head back, staring down his nose at her. For several long seconds, he takes her in... before exhaling deeply, shaking his head.
KNOX: Those pants are revolting.
Junko looks down at her pants, curling her upper lip with disgust.
KNOX: Not that your fashion sense isn't always questionable.
She looks up at him, lip still curled.
JUNKO: What's wrong with my clothes?
He smirks.
KNOX: It's not your fault, kid. I think you're just another unfortunate victim of not having a proper womanly influence coming up.
JUNKO: I'm trying to fit in.
KNOX: Well, all I'm saying is that mistakes were made.
He reaches into his pocket, removing a pack of cigarettes. Junko looks on, confused, as he raises a match to the cigarette hanging on his bottom lip and lights it up.
JUNKO: Hey, you can't smoke that in here... you'll get us kicked out!
Knox exhales smoke almost directly in her face.
KNOX: Nah, not for another couple years.
Noticing something behind her, he raises his arm and points, snapping his fingers to get her attention. With his other hand, he removes the cigarette from his mouth, holding it between his thumb and finger.
KNOX: She's going, too, huh?
Junko turns, sees the orange menace cutting through the crowd in their direction. Stopping at Junko's side, Hanako Tohei looks up at Knox with disdain. She's wearing an orange Members Only jacket over a black t-shirt. Again, Knox shakes his head, unable to hide his amusement as he reaches out and flicks the collar of Hanako's jacket.
KNOX: The last Member has arrived. All hail.
Hanako looks at Junko, narrowing her eyes.
HANAKO: What's the snake doing here?
JUNKO: Hanako, please --
Knox cuts her off with a flippant wave of his hand.
KNOX: You don't need to defend me, Junko... I'm not sticking around anyway.
HANAKO: Good.
Knox glares at Hanako, pinning her in place with his gaze.
KNOX: I just... heard rumblings about what you were up to and thought I would stop by to see you off... and to make sure you really thought this whole thing through.
JUNKO: What do you mean? This... is my business.
KNOX: I understand that... but your business is about to take you across the ocean to a strange place in a strange time when you're only a few days out from the biggest match of your entire life.
JUNKO: Japan isn't a strange place --
KNOX: -- in 1996, you bet your ass it is.
He takes another drag from the cigarette and exhales deeply.
KNOX: I understand having unfinished business. Maybe you've got an opportunity to right a wrong or say something to someone that's been unsaid for too long... but the fact of the matter is that you can't let that take your eye off the ball... what's important, okay?
Junko averts her gaze, looking down at the floor between her white Reebok shoes.
KNOX: What I said to you on Fury holds true... but it's even bigger than that. You're not just taking this shot at Peter Vaughn for yourself... you're taking it for everyone he's screwed over in his effort to maintain his stranglehold on the International Championship, myself included.
He smirks.
KNOX: Especially me, if we're being honest --
He cuts his eyes in Hanako's direction, steely and cold.
KNOX: -- and I promised I'd always be honest with you, Junko.
He turns back to the one in blue.
KNOX: I can assure you that Peter Vaughn isn't traversing the world to prepare for this match. He's going to be laser focused on taking you down because he knows deep down in his soul, whether he wants to admit it or not, that you're the one who can do this... once and for all.
JUNKO: So... you're saying I shouldn't --
KNOX: -- I'm not saying you should or shouldn't do anything.
He looks past her, out across the sea of people boarding their planes.
KNOX: Whatever you're doing, if you genuinely think it's going to help you do what you need to do at RetroMania... I say get on with it because you're going to need every bit of help you can get, but if you have even a sliver of doubt --
He exhales smoke through his nose, then shakes his head gently.
JUNKO: ...yeah.
Knox stubs out the cigarette in the gravel of a nearby ash tray.
KNOX: Yeah.
He gestures toward Hanako.
KNOX: And keep an eye on this one... or a leash, maybe.
HANAKO: Hey, what the f --
KNOX: -- what happens here matters, kid... and I don't fancy the idea of returning to a nuclear holocaust in 2024 because you got careless. Whether you trust me or not, that's one thing you can count on.
Hanako grits her teeth, looking away and muttering.
HANAKO: ...whatever.
Knox turns, focusing on Junko once again.
KNOX: Do what you gotta do --
She looks up at him, a look of determination.
KNOX: -- and then you get back here... and get the job done.
He looks at Hanako, then back at Junko.
KNOX: For all of us.
< / > denotes foreign language translation.
Japan.
It's morning.
The rising sun is blinding as Junko stands outside the corner store, squinting her eyes against the offensive yellow rays. There's a jingle from above as Hanako exits the shop with a small paper bag. She reaches inside, producing two 20oz bottles of Josta. She hands one to Junko, who receives it without looking down at it, only unscrewing the cap absentmindedly... staring off into the distance before taking a sip and grimacing at the unexpected bittersweet flavor. Holding the bottle in front of her and looking down at it, she appears repulsed.
JUNKO: < This is terrible. >
Hanako pulls her own bottle away from her lips and shrugs.
HANAKO: < You'll really complain about anything, won't you? >
Junko cuts her eyes in Hanako's direction, her silence saying everything.
HANAKO: < Relax, Junko-chan... besides, it doesn't matter what it tastes like. It's the closest thing I could find to an energy drink. We're gonna need it with everything we gotta do before heading back to the States for your match. >
Junko looks down at the bottle again, reading the label.
JUNKO: < What's "guarana?" >
HANAKO: < It's where the energy comes from. >
Hanako looks at her in disbelief, eyes wide.
HANAKO: < Duh. >
Junko takes another quick swig of the drink and lowers the bottle.
JUNKO: < I found him, Hana-kun. >
Hanako's eyes widen even more.
HANAKO: < That was... fast. >
JUNKO: < The old directories are a pain but I made it work. >
Junko shows Hanako a scrap of paper with an address on it.
HANAKO: < So, we're really doing this, huh? >
Junko nods solemnly.
JUNKO: < We've come too far to turn back now. >
Hanako looks around, a timid smile crossing her face as she takes in all the living relics from a time gone by.
HANAKO: < You're not joking. >
Junko takes a deep breath and clutches the scrap of paper in her fist, bringing it close.
JUNKO: < And this is only the beginning. >
In her dreams --
-- she's flying... above everything.
Out of reach of her past, her problems... of things that wish to do her harm. Everything around her is soft, warm, flowing around her in a liquid state. In her dreams, she's safe. There's no Joe Montuori. There's no Brooke Blakely or Nova Skye, no inferno battle royals, no Kilroy or King Kota Amasaki... her mother isn't there. No, only clouds and sky and heavenly music and the overwhelming sense that --
Her voice comes from... everywhere.
The air becomes heavier, slowing her ascent.
There's light from above, sparkling, illuminating her features in a dreamlike hue.
She pushes through the resistance, breaking through the clouds, drifting upward with her eyes shut, allowing icy moisture to kiss her pale features.
Above, the twinkling of stars.
Her eyes open, steely... cold.
The stars dance in her darkened eyes.
The air moves her hair about erratically, framing her pale face.
She's bathed in blinding light from above.
Her voice becomes flat, forceful.
Looking upward, she pierces the veil between dream and the cosmos.
The park.
It was almost night before they found him.
If it weren't for the sweet old lady next door to him and her willingness to talk to two young girls whom she couldn't imagine would ever be up to no good, they might not have found him at all. She must have been aware in her sweet old lady wisdom that not finding Hideki Souma was... not an option. Sitting on a bench in a crisp blue suit, Junko almost doesn't recognize him. Young, handsome, and far from the broken shell of a man he became. Sitting patiently with his back to them, he checks his watch regularly... waiting on something or someone.
HANAKO: < I won't lie to you, Junko-chan... your dad is kinda' hot. >
Junko cuts her eyes in Hanako's direction.
JUNKO: < Dude. Seriously? >
Junko shakes her head as Hanako turns away, snickering into her pale hand. The two of them, standing just out of sight, almost blatantly hidden, watch in silence for a long moment. Hanako pushes her bright orange hair behind her ear before speaking aloud, eyes locked on the man in the blue suit.
HANAKO: < Are you... gonna go say something? >
JUNKO: < No. >
Silence, again.
JUNKO: < You heard Knox... what we do matters here. What if I -- >
The words almost catch in her throat. She swallows.
JUNKO: < ...what if I mess something up? >
She exhales deeply through her nose.
JUNKO: < What if I make things worse than they already are? >
Hanako sighs, turns to look at Junko.
HANAKO: < Then... what are we doing here, Junko-chan? >
Junko's eyes never leave the man, not for a second.
JUNKO: < I just... wanted to see him again. >
Hanako nods, understanding.
HANAKO: < Okay. >
Several long seconds pass before a woman in a pink floral dress with shoulder pads approaches. Hideki stands, smiling and producing flowers from next to him on the bench. He hands them to the woman. The woman is young, pretty... visibly in love with the man standing in front of her. Junko feels her eyes begin to burn and fights back tears. Hanako notices.
HANAKO: < Is that your mom -- >
JUNKO: < -- no. >
The corner of Junko's mouth turns upward slightly, the beginnings of a smile. She watches as the happy couple quickly hugs one another before her father takes the woman's hand, holding it in his own, smiling ear to ear in a way that she never witnessed before.
JUNKO: < I... don't know who that is. >
She sees the ring on the woman's finger glimmer in the sunlight.
JUNKO: < They're happy. >
Hanako doesn't pay the couple any mind, only focusing on Junko... on the emotion etched across her face. The fist in her chest tightens, threatens to burst. Junko has no idea as she reaches up and wipes her eye with the back of her hand.
JUNKO: < He was happy. >
Junko swallows hard, turns to look at Hanako.
JUNKO: < He was happy before... before -- >
Hanako reaches out, grips Junko's shoulder, squeezes it tight.
HANAKO: < Hey, don't think about that -- >
JUNKO: < -- no, it's good. >
Junko puts her hand on Hanako's.
JUNKO: < It's good... I'm glad. I've just... I've never seen him smile like that. >
Hanako doesn't say anything. Junko looks away from her, setting her sights back on her father and the woman he's with, taking one last look before speaking aloud.
JUNKO: < We should go... there's still one more stop before we head back. >
Junko turns and begins to walk away, grass crunching beneath her feet. Hanako's eyes linger on the happy couple before she huffs and turns to follow. She answers, sounding almost defeated.
HANAKO: < Yeah... don't wanna be late for that. >
The cosmos.
They're wrapped around her like a blanket.
Time and space warp and bend around her naked shoulders. From her position, floating among the stars, the earth is little more than a marble in the distance, a lifetime away from where she now resides. The sun itself burns brightly behind her, silhouetting her physical form against the infinite void.
A dull hum reverberates from somewhere in the distance.
She sounds almost... uninterested.
She turns, facing the sun, staring deep into its heart.
Slowly, she begins to drift forward.
The poster.
Junko removes it from her pocket, unfolds it.
It's musty and old, stained with age, dirt... and blood. She's not sure where the red splotch came from. It was there when she found it among his belongings, one of the last things she has to remember him by after Joe Montuori destroyed so many of his photos on the road to Thunder in Paradise 3. The show isn't a big one and she doesn't recognize anyone on the poster except for the brash young man in the upper right corner... he would have only been wrestling for a few months at this point in his career. If this time travel... incident had happened only a few months earlier, she might have missed him entirely.
Though the situation is inconvenient, she's thankful for that silver lining.
Standing outside the venue, a building that resembles a rundown warehouse, Junko and Hanako watch as the promotion's collection of young boys walk equipment inside in preparation of the show's start time, roughly an hour from now. Standing with her jacket tied around her waist, scars laid bare across her shoulders and upper back, Junko tries but doesn't see him among those putting in work, paying their dues. As minutes tick by, she begins to worry that she's missed him and --
HANAKO: < We don't have time for this, Junko-chan. >
Junko glances over her shoulder.
JUNKO: < He's supposed to be here. >
HANAKO: < What are we even doing? It's not like you're gonna talk to him. You said there's too much risk. >
Junko feels the abrasive texture of the ruined poster on her fingertips.
JUNKO: < Wouldn't you want to see your family again, Hana-kun? Even if you couldn't hug them or talk to them? Wouldn't just seeing them again, knowing they're okay... wouldn't that be enough? >
Hanako's eyes narrow... standing behind Junko, she glares at the back of her head.
HANAKO: < He's not your family, Junko-chan... and he's not okay. >
Junko bites her bottom lip, resisting the urge to lash out at her friend.
HANAKO: < The future we know... is still our future. >
Junko nods gently.
JUNKO: < Yeah. >
HANAKO: < Let's just go, okay? >
She takes Junko by the arm and Junko turns to face her, pulling her arm free.
JUNKO: < Hana-kun -- >
She stops, frozen in mid-sentence. She sees the man approaching from behind them, guiding another man rolling a large equipment trunk toward the venue's rear entrance. Hanako glances over her shoulder, eyes widening as she sees him. Breathlessly, his name escapes Junko's lips as he passes by them.
JUNKO: < Chiba-san. >
It takes him a moment to react, stopping to look over his shoulder. Hanako grabs Junko by the shoulder, a vain attempt to stop her from doing something stupid. Junko brushes her off, taking a step forward as the man lets the guy with the trunk move on without him. The man appears confused, raising an eyebrow.
JUNKO: < You're Chiba Hideo, yes? >
Chiba, a junior heavyweight at this point in his life, wearing a white t-shirt and black track pants, folds his arms across his chest... and a smirk forms across his young face. He calls out over his shoulder.
CHIBA: < Genryu! Did you hear that? This little girl knows who I am! >
The man with the trunk stops, a flustered expression on his sweaty face.
GENRYU: < Congratulations, you'll be a huge star any day now! >
He gestures toward the trunk.
GENRYU: < Can we get back to work, please? >
Chiba waves him off, still smiling.
CHIBA: < You'll manage. I must address my fans -- >
JUNKO: < -- we're not fans. >
She winces, unable to stop the words before they come out of her mouth. Chiba's smile dissipates and he leans back, staring down his nose at the two women in front of him.
JUNKO: < We're not... little girls, either. >
CHIBA: < What are you, then? >
JUNKO: < We're wrestlers like you. >
He stops, lowers his arms, looks them both up and down.
CHIBA: < So, you're looking for work, then? What's your name? >
JUNKO: < My name is Ju -- >
Hanako steps up, cutting her off.
HANAKO: < This is Juri-chan. >
Junko cuts her eyes in Hanako's direction, momentarily confused before it sets in. Hanako gestures toward herself, unable to hide her concerned expression.
HANAKO: < I'm Emiko. >
Chiba nods, scratches his chin.
CHIBA: < Well, we don't have a women's division... but I can put in a word with Harada, he runs the show... maybe he'll let you two work each other. You're both pretty enough, should get over -- >
JUNKO: < -- we're not looking for work. >
Scratching his chin again, he looks confused.
CHIBA: < Then, what do you want? Why are you here? >
Junko can't take her eyes off of him, studying his face over and over, doing her best to see the man that she would come to know twenty-three years later... and while the resemblance is almost there, she struggles to find him.
CHIBA: < Speak up -- >
She meets his gaze.
CHIBA: < -- our time together is limited, you know? >
His words hit like a punch in the gut.
JUNKO: < We were just passing through and saw the flyer -- >
Something happened to him between then and now.
CHIBA: < That thing? >
He reaches out, takes the ruined poster from her, looks it over, curling his upper lip with disgust. The man in front of her is young, a little cocky, in undeniably good shape... ready to take on the world. She wonders when the weight of it became too much for him.
CHIBA: < This one is ruined... I can get you a new one. I can even sign it for you if you want -- >
He begins to wad it up and she stops him, putting her hand on his wrist.
JUNKO: < No, please! >
He stops, looking down at the flyer as she slides it out of his hand, holding it in both of her own and bringing it in close to her chest as though she's protecting it. He seems genuinely taken aback by her reaction. He offers a slight bow... something he would've never done in their time together.
CHIBA: < I apologize, Juri-chan. >
He would never have done that either. He rubs the back of his neck nervously, his façade of confidence now gone. Several feet away, Genryu struggles to fit the trunk through the door, grunting aloud. Chiba looks over his shoulder and huffs.
CHIBA: < I should be going... they need me. >
He gestures over his shoulder.
CHIBA: < So, you two aren't coming inside? You don't want to watch, at least? >
Junko gently shakes her head.
JUNKO: < We appreciate the invitation but... we're out of time. >
Chiba nods before allowing his eyes to settle on Junko's pale shoulders, decorated with flecks of pink... scar tissue accumulated over the past couple years of paying tribute to her mentor. Still, she can't imagine the man standing in front of her eventually becoming The Man Who Makes Rain of Blood.
CHIBA: < Say, what kind of wrestler are you, huh? >
She feels her face begin to get hot and she follows his eyes down to her shoulder... to a particularly large patch of pink where a piece of glass, three inches long, was pulled from her flesh after the Glass House match with Joe Montuori.
JUNKO: < I... do what it takes to win. >
She looks up, meeting his gaze once again.
JUNKO: < Whatever it takes. I never give up. >
He sighs, a disappointed expression washing over his face.
CHIBA: < My sensei... he says that death match wrestling is the last gasp of a dying career. >
She reaches up, wiping away a tear with the back of her hand before it makes a break for it.
CHIBA: < You're too pretty for that... try harder, do better... become a number one wrestler, okay? Don't ruin your body and your reputation for pride. >
Junko bites her bottom lip in attempt to fend off the overwhelming emotions. She struggles to push the words out past gritted teeth.
JUNKO: < It's... too late for that. >
CHIBA: < No. >
He shakes his head.
CHIBA: < Never too late. >
He reaches out, patting her cheek.
CHIBA: < Every single day is an opportunity for a new beginning. >
GENRYU: < Chiba-san! Are you gonna help me or what?! >
Chiba lets the words wash over him, then shakes them off.
CHIBA: < You two... be careful. Take care of each other, okay? >
He turns, walking away from them and toward Genryu. Junko calls out to him.
JUNKO: < Chiba-san! >
He turns, looking over his shoulder.
JUNKO: < Thank you. >
With another confused smirk on his face, he offers one final polite nod before turning his full attention to Genryu and the trunk stuck in the door frame. Junko watches as Chiba and Genryu are successful and disappear inside the venue seconds later. The tears begin to flow and she doesn't bother trying to stop them. She turns and Hanako wraps her arms around her, holding her tight. Hanako pets Junko's hair with one hand, gently patting her back with the other before whispering in her ear.
HANAKO: < Junko-chan... it's time to go. >
The sun's core.
The floor is cold and wet.
Junko's bare feet touch down, darkness swirls around her.
At the center of the room, a dark pool of liquid, living and breathing. She hears the voices whispering from the darkness at the edges of the room, telling her that she doesn't belong here. Still, she persists, walking to the edge of the pool, looking into it... seeing nothing, not even her reflection in the mirror-like surface below.
Junko tilts her head slightly, confused.
The darkness below begins to bubble.
Slowly, something begins to take shape.
An entity begins to rise from the pool, slowly... steadily.
It begins to take human form, standing at eye-level with Junko.
The darkness drips away from the figure, revealing human features.
Eyes form, staring deep into Junko's own.
Junko raises her hand... and the entity, dripping black, does the same.
As the black drips away, the entity's features become clearer. Junko seems unfazed by the revelation that she's standing in front of a picture perfect copy of herself. Without a word, without a single change in demeanor, she stares into the eyes of her reflection, unmoving.
Junko reaches out toward the entity and it does the same.
Their finger tips touch and reality ripples between them.
There's an audible hum in the room as both Junkos stare at one another, unbothered.
Light pierces the entity's chest, bathing Junko's face.
Everything begins to vibrate.
And then... nothing.
The airport.
Men, women, children... they file past her on the way to their respective terminals, chattering happily amongst one another, excited for their journeys to come. Standing near the center of the vast space, clad in a black jacket over a white tanktop with baggy blue nylon pants, Junko takes in her surroundings, noting the odd lack of security, the bright colors, the dated haircuts... over the loudspeaker, "Just a Girl" by No Doubt plays at low volume, just enough noise to break up the monotony of the murmuring public.
Through the crowd, she sees him approaching.
She walks to meet him, pants swishing with every step.
Matthew "The Raven" Knox stops in front of her, tilting his head back, staring down his nose at her. For several long seconds, he takes her in... before exhaling deeply, shaking his head.
KNOX: Those pants are revolting.
Junko looks down at her pants, curling her upper lip with disgust.
KNOX: Not that your fashion sense isn't always questionable.
She looks up at him, lip still curled.
JUNKO: What's wrong with my clothes?
He smirks.
KNOX: It's not your fault, kid. I think you're just another unfortunate victim of not having a proper womanly influence coming up.
JUNKO: I'm trying to fit in.
KNOX: Well, all I'm saying is that mistakes were made.
He reaches into his pocket, removing a pack of cigarettes. Junko looks on, confused, as he raises a match to the cigarette hanging on his bottom lip and lights it up.
JUNKO: Hey, you can't smoke that in here... you'll get us kicked out!
Knox exhales smoke almost directly in her face.
KNOX: Nah, not for another couple years.
Noticing something behind her, he raises his arm and points, snapping his fingers to get her attention. With his other hand, he removes the cigarette from his mouth, holding it between his thumb and finger.
KNOX: She's going, too, huh?
Junko turns, sees the orange menace cutting through the crowd in their direction. Stopping at Junko's side, Hanako Tohei looks up at Knox with disdain. She's wearing an orange Members Only jacket over a black t-shirt. Again, Knox shakes his head, unable to hide his amusement as he reaches out and flicks the collar of Hanako's jacket.
KNOX: The last Member has arrived. All hail.
Hanako looks at Junko, narrowing her eyes.
HANAKO: What's the snake doing here?
JUNKO: Hanako, please --
Knox cuts her off with a flippant wave of his hand.
KNOX: You don't need to defend me, Junko... I'm not sticking around anyway.
HANAKO: Good.
Knox glares at Hanako, pinning her in place with his gaze.
KNOX: I just... heard rumblings about what you were up to and thought I would stop by to see you off... and to make sure you really thought this whole thing through.
JUNKO: What do you mean? This... is my business.
KNOX: I understand that... but your business is about to take you across the ocean to a strange place in a strange time when you're only a few days out from the biggest match of your entire life.
JUNKO: Japan isn't a strange place --
KNOX: -- in 1996, you bet your ass it is.
He takes another drag from the cigarette and exhales deeply.
KNOX: I understand having unfinished business. Maybe you've got an opportunity to right a wrong or say something to someone that's been unsaid for too long... but the fact of the matter is that you can't let that take your eye off the ball... what's important, okay?
Junko averts her gaze, looking down at the floor between her white Reebok shoes.
KNOX: What I said to you on Fury holds true... but it's even bigger than that. You're not just taking this shot at Peter Vaughn for yourself... you're taking it for everyone he's screwed over in his effort to maintain his stranglehold on the International Championship, myself included.
He smirks.
KNOX: Especially me, if we're being honest --
He cuts his eyes in Hanako's direction, steely and cold.
KNOX: -- and I promised I'd always be honest with you, Junko.
He turns back to the one in blue.
KNOX: I can assure you that Peter Vaughn isn't traversing the world to prepare for this match. He's going to be laser focused on taking you down because he knows deep down in his soul, whether he wants to admit it or not, that you're the one who can do this... once and for all.
JUNKO: So... you're saying I shouldn't --
KNOX: -- I'm not saying you should or shouldn't do anything.
He looks past her, out across the sea of people boarding their planes.
KNOX: Whatever you're doing, if you genuinely think it's going to help you do what you need to do at RetroMania... I say get on with it because you're going to need every bit of help you can get, but if you have even a sliver of doubt --
He exhales smoke through his nose, then shakes his head gently.
JUNKO: ...yeah.
Knox stubs out the cigarette in the gravel of a nearby ash tray.
KNOX: Yeah.
He gestures toward Hanako.
KNOX: And keep an eye on this one... or a leash, maybe.
HANAKO: Hey, what the f --
KNOX: -- what happens here matters, kid... and I don't fancy the idea of returning to a nuclear holocaust in 2024 because you got careless. Whether you trust me or not, that's one thing you can count on.
Hanako grits her teeth, looking away and muttering.
HANAKO: ...whatever.
Knox turns, focusing on Junko once again.
KNOX: Do what you gotta do --
She looks up at him, a look of determination.
KNOX: -- and then you get back here... and get the job done.
He looks at Hanako, then back at Junko.
KNOX: For all of us.
Japan.
It's morning.
The rising sun is blinding as Junko stands outside the corner store, squinting her eyes against the offensive yellow rays. There's a jingle from above as Hanako exits the shop with a small paper bag. She reaches inside, producing two 20oz bottles of Josta. She hands one to Junko, who receives it without looking down at it, only unscrewing the cap absentmindedly... staring off into the distance before taking a sip and grimacing at the unexpected bittersweet flavor. Holding the bottle in front of her and looking down at it, she appears repulsed.
JUNKO: < This is terrible. >
Hanako pulls her own bottle away from her lips and shrugs.
HANAKO: < You'll really complain about anything, won't you? >
Junko cuts her eyes in Hanako's direction, her silence saying everything.
HANAKO: < Relax, Junko-chan... besides, it doesn't matter what it tastes like. It's the closest thing I could find to an energy drink. We're gonna need it with everything we gotta do before heading back to the States for your match. >
Junko looks down at the bottle again, reading the label.
JUNKO: < What's "guarana?" >
HANAKO: < It's where the energy comes from. >
Hanako looks at her in disbelief, eyes wide.
HANAKO: < Duh. >
Junko takes another quick swig of the drink and lowers the bottle.
JUNKO: < I found him, Hana-kun. >
Hanako's eyes widen even more.
HANAKO: < That was... fast. >
JUNKO: < The old directories are a pain but I made it work. >
Junko shows Hanako a scrap of paper with an address on it.
HANAKO: < So, we're really doing this, huh? >
Junko nods solemnly.
JUNKO: < We've come too far to turn back now. >
Hanako looks around, a timid smile crossing her face as she takes in all the living relics from a time gone by.
HANAKO: < You're not joking. >
Junko takes a deep breath and clutches the scrap of paper in her fist, bringing it close.
JUNKO: < And this is only the beginning. >
-- she's flying... above everything.
Out of reach of her past, her problems... of things that wish to do her harm. Everything around her is soft, warm, flowing around her in a liquid state. In her dreams, she's safe. There's no Joe Montuori. There's no Brooke Blakely or Nova Skye, no inferno battle royals, no Kilroy or King Kota Amasaki... her mother isn't there. No, only clouds and sky and heavenly music and the overwhelming sense that --
"Everything is going to be okay."
Her voice comes from... everywhere.
The air becomes heavier, slowing her ascent.
"There was a time when I didn't think I wanted this anymore... even though it's everything I've trained my body for since I made my debut in Thunder Pro Wrestling one year ago. After everything I've been through, all the setbacks I've suffered... I wasn't sure if it was what management or the fans wanted... I wasn't sure if I deserved it myself."
There's light from above, sparkling, illuminating her features in a dreamlike hue.
"When I came to Thunder Pro Wrestling, the main event scene was made up of... titans of insurmountable talent. Larry Tact, "Chronic" Chris Page, Matt Knox... and you, Peter Vaughn."
She pushes through the resistance, breaking through the clouds, drifting upward with her eyes shut, allowing icy moisture to kiss her pale features.
"I never imagined I might one day get the opportunity to challenge for the International Championship... after all, I only came here to compete in the SEX Cup Tournament. I wasn't supposed to be a contender... but I worked hard and I took the very worst that this company had to offer... and now, here I am."
Above, the twinkling of stars.
"Throughout the history of Thunder Pro Wrestling... one thing has remained constant and that's you, Peter Vaughn. Since this company's inception, you've kept a firm grip on the main event scene and the International Championship. While others have managed to wrangle the title from your grasp for short periods of time, you've yet to suffer a loss that you haven't rebounded from swiftly and violently, ending up with the gold right back around your waist."
Her eyes open, steely... cold.
"But we're in the endgame now and that isn't going to happen again."
The stars dance in her darkened eyes.
"What happens at RetroMania can't be undone."
The air moves her hair about erratically, framing her pale face.
"Whoever leaves Chicago with the International Championship will have the honor of calling themselves champion forever, until the end of time itself. It could be you, Peter Vaughn, the man who calls Thunder Pro Wrestling "his" and does anything and everything it takes to remain on top, even if it means losing his humanity in the process -- "
She's bathed in blinding light from above.
" -- but what if it's me?"
Her voice becomes flat, forceful.
"What if it's the girl who was never supposed to make it this far?"
Looking upward, she pierces the veil between dream and the cosmos.
"Can you live with that?"
It was almost night before they found him.
If it weren't for the sweet old lady next door to him and her willingness to talk to two young girls whom she couldn't imagine would ever be up to no good, they might not have found him at all. She must have been aware in her sweet old lady wisdom that not finding Hideki Souma was... not an option. Sitting on a bench in a crisp blue suit, Junko almost doesn't recognize him. Young, handsome, and far from the broken shell of a man he became. Sitting patiently with his back to them, he checks his watch regularly... waiting on something or someone.
HANAKO: < I won't lie to you, Junko-chan... your dad is kinda' hot. >
Junko cuts her eyes in Hanako's direction.
JUNKO: < Dude. Seriously? >
Junko shakes her head as Hanako turns away, snickering into her pale hand. The two of them, standing just out of sight, almost blatantly hidden, watch in silence for a long moment. Hanako pushes her bright orange hair behind her ear before speaking aloud, eyes locked on the man in the blue suit.
HANAKO: < Are you... gonna go say something? >
JUNKO: < No. >
Silence, again.
JUNKO: < You heard Knox... what we do matters here. What if I -- >
The words almost catch in her throat. She swallows.
JUNKO: < ...what if I mess something up? >
She exhales deeply through her nose.
JUNKO: < What if I make things worse than they already are? >
Hanako sighs, turns to look at Junko.
HANAKO: < Then... what are we doing here, Junko-chan? >
Junko's eyes never leave the man, not for a second.
JUNKO: < I just... wanted to see him again. >
Hanako nods, understanding.
HANAKO: < Okay. >
Several long seconds pass before a woman in a pink floral dress with shoulder pads approaches. Hideki stands, smiling and producing flowers from next to him on the bench. He hands them to the woman. The woman is young, pretty... visibly in love with the man standing in front of her. Junko feels her eyes begin to burn and fights back tears. Hanako notices.
HANAKO: < Is that your mom -- >
JUNKO: < -- no. >
The corner of Junko's mouth turns upward slightly, the beginnings of a smile. She watches as the happy couple quickly hugs one another before her father takes the woman's hand, holding it in his own, smiling ear to ear in a way that she never witnessed before.
JUNKO: < I... don't know who that is. >
She sees the ring on the woman's finger glimmer in the sunlight.
JUNKO: < They're happy. >
Hanako doesn't pay the couple any mind, only focusing on Junko... on the emotion etched across her face. The fist in her chest tightens, threatens to burst. Junko has no idea as she reaches up and wipes her eye with the back of her hand.
JUNKO: < He was happy. >
Junko swallows hard, turns to look at Hanako.
JUNKO: < He was happy before... before -- >
Hanako reaches out, grips Junko's shoulder, squeezes it tight.
HANAKO: < Hey, don't think about that -- >
JUNKO: < -- no, it's good. >
Junko puts her hand on Hanako's.
JUNKO: < It's good... I'm glad. I've just... I've never seen him smile like that. >
Hanako doesn't say anything. Junko looks away from her, setting her sights back on her father and the woman he's with, taking one last look before speaking aloud.
JUNKO: < We should go... there's still one more stop before we head back. >
Junko turns and begins to walk away, grass crunching beneath her feet. Hanako's eyes linger on the happy couple before she huffs and turns to follow. She answers, sounding almost defeated.
HANAKO: < Yeah... don't wanna be late for that. >
They're wrapped around her like a blanket.
Time and space warp and bend around her naked shoulders. From her position, floating among the stars, the earth is little more than a marble in the distance, a lifetime away from where she now resides. The sun itself burns brightly behind her, silhouetting her physical form against the infinite void.
"You've beaten everyone in this company... you've beaten the very best and... that's an intimidating notion, the idea of stepping in the ring with someone that's done everything there is to do. You might not own Thunder Pro Wrestling... you might not have founded it but you put in the work... and you did everything in your power to build it up with your bare hands, brick by brick, to turn it into what it became."
A dull hum reverberates from somewhere in the distance.
"But the fact of the matter is that Thunder Pro Wrestling outgrew you... it became something that you no longer had the power to control... so you did everything you could to mutilate its ideals, to crush it beneath your bootheel... to strangle the life from it by any means necessary... but in the end, despite your best efforts, Thunder Pro Wrestling no longer resembles what you tried to turn it into."
She sounds almost... uninterested.
"It's not your plaything anymore."
She turns, facing the sun, staring deep into its heart.
"Competitors like Larry Tact, Max Stone, Ava Arthur, Matt Knox, and myself... we opposed you and your ideals, resisted you and those who followed you every step of the way... but the ones who followed you are gone now. You're all that's left... and here, now... as it all comes to a close, you're the last obstacle, the only thing standing between Thunder Pro Wrestling -- "
Slowly, she begins to drift forward.
" -- and the happy ending it deserves."
Junko removes it from her pocket, unfolds it.
It's musty and old, stained with age, dirt... and blood. She's not sure where the red splotch came from. It was there when she found it among his belongings, one of the last things she has to remember him by after Joe Montuori destroyed so many of his photos on the road to Thunder in Paradise 3. The show isn't a big one and she doesn't recognize anyone on the poster except for the brash young man in the upper right corner... he would have only been wrestling for a few months at this point in his career. If this time travel... incident had happened only a few months earlier, she might have missed him entirely.
Though the situation is inconvenient, she's thankful for that silver lining.
Standing outside the venue, a building that resembles a rundown warehouse, Junko and Hanako watch as the promotion's collection of young boys walk equipment inside in preparation of the show's start time, roughly an hour from now. Standing with her jacket tied around her waist, scars laid bare across her shoulders and upper back, Junko tries but doesn't see him among those putting in work, paying their dues. As minutes tick by, she begins to worry that she's missed him and --
HANAKO: < We don't have time for this, Junko-chan. >
Junko glances over her shoulder.
JUNKO: < He's supposed to be here. >
HANAKO: < What are we even doing? It's not like you're gonna talk to him. You said there's too much risk. >
Junko feels the abrasive texture of the ruined poster on her fingertips.
JUNKO: < Wouldn't you want to see your family again, Hana-kun? Even if you couldn't hug them or talk to them? Wouldn't just seeing them again, knowing they're okay... wouldn't that be enough? >
Hanako's eyes narrow... standing behind Junko, she glares at the back of her head.
HANAKO: < He's not your family, Junko-chan... and he's not okay. >
Junko bites her bottom lip, resisting the urge to lash out at her friend.
HANAKO: < The future we know... is still our future. >
Junko nods gently.
JUNKO: < Yeah. >
HANAKO: < Let's just go, okay? >
She takes Junko by the arm and Junko turns to face her, pulling her arm free.
JUNKO: < Hana-kun -- >
She stops, frozen in mid-sentence. She sees the man approaching from behind them, guiding another man rolling a large equipment trunk toward the venue's rear entrance. Hanako glances over her shoulder, eyes widening as she sees him. Breathlessly, his name escapes Junko's lips as he passes by them.
JUNKO: < Chiba-san. >
It takes him a moment to react, stopping to look over his shoulder. Hanako grabs Junko by the shoulder, a vain attempt to stop her from doing something stupid. Junko brushes her off, taking a step forward as the man lets the guy with the trunk move on without him. The man appears confused, raising an eyebrow.
JUNKO: < You're Chiba Hideo, yes? >
Chiba, a junior heavyweight at this point in his life, wearing a white t-shirt and black track pants, folds his arms across his chest... and a smirk forms across his young face. He calls out over his shoulder.
CHIBA: < Genryu! Did you hear that? This little girl knows who I am! >
The man with the trunk stops, a flustered expression on his sweaty face.
GENRYU: < Congratulations, you'll be a huge star any day now! >
He gestures toward the trunk.
GENRYU: < Can we get back to work, please? >
Chiba waves him off, still smiling.
CHIBA: < You'll manage. I must address my fans -- >
JUNKO: < -- we're not fans. >
She winces, unable to stop the words before they come out of her mouth. Chiba's smile dissipates and he leans back, staring down his nose at the two women in front of him.
JUNKO: < We're not... little girls, either. >
CHIBA: < What are you, then? >
JUNKO: < We're wrestlers like you. >
He stops, lowers his arms, looks them both up and down.
CHIBA: < So, you're looking for work, then? What's your name? >
JUNKO: < My name is Ju -- >
Hanako steps up, cutting her off.
HANAKO: < This is Juri-chan. >
Junko cuts her eyes in Hanako's direction, momentarily confused before it sets in. Hanako gestures toward herself, unable to hide her concerned expression.
HANAKO: < I'm Emiko. >
Chiba nods, scratches his chin.
CHIBA: < Well, we don't have a women's division... but I can put in a word with Harada, he runs the show... maybe he'll let you two work each other. You're both pretty enough, should get over -- >
JUNKO: < -- we're not looking for work. >
Scratching his chin again, he looks confused.
CHIBA: < Then, what do you want? Why are you here? >
Junko can't take her eyes off of him, studying his face over and over, doing her best to see the man that she would come to know twenty-three years later... and while the resemblance is almost there, she struggles to find him.
CHIBA: < Speak up -- >
She meets his gaze.
CHIBA: < -- our time together is limited, you know? >
His words hit like a punch in the gut.
JUNKO: < We were just passing through and saw the flyer -- >
Something happened to him between then and now.
CHIBA: < That thing? >
He reaches out, takes the ruined poster from her, looks it over, curling his upper lip with disgust. The man in front of her is young, a little cocky, in undeniably good shape... ready to take on the world. She wonders when the weight of it became too much for him.
CHIBA: < This one is ruined... I can get you a new one. I can even sign it for you if you want -- >
He begins to wad it up and she stops him, putting her hand on his wrist.
JUNKO: < No, please! >
He stops, looking down at the flyer as she slides it out of his hand, holding it in both of her own and bringing it in close to her chest as though she's protecting it. He seems genuinely taken aback by her reaction. He offers a slight bow... something he would've never done in their time together.
CHIBA: < I apologize, Juri-chan. >
He would never have done that either. He rubs the back of his neck nervously, his façade of confidence now gone. Several feet away, Genryu struggles to fit the trunk through the door, grunting aloud. Chiba looks over his shoulder and huffs.
CHIBA: < I should be going... they need me. >
He gestures over his shoulder.
CHIBA: < So, you two aren't coming inside? You don't want to watch, at least? >
Junko gently shakes her head.
JUNKO: < We appreciate the invitation but... we're out of time. >
Chiba nods before allowing his eyes to settle on Junko's pale shoulders, decorated with flecks of pink... scar tissue accumulated over the past couple years of paying tribute to her mentor. Still, she can't imagine the man standing in front of her eventually becoming The Man Who Makes Rain of Blood.
CHIBA: < Say, what kind of wrestler are you, huh? >
She feels her face begin to get hot and she follows his eyes down to her shoulder... to a particularly large patch of pink where a piece of glass, three inches long, was pulled from her flesh after the Glass House match with Joe Montuori.
JUNKO: < I... do what it takes to win. >
She looks up, meeting his gaze once again.
JUNKO: < Whatever it takes. I never give up. >
He sighs, a disappointed expression washing over his face.
CHIBA: < My sensei... he says that death match wrestling is the last gasp of a dying career. >
She reaches up, wiping away a tear with the back of her hand before it makes a break for it.
CHIBA: < You're too pretty for that... try harder, do better... become a number one wrestler, okay? Don't ruin your body and your reputation for pride. >
Junko bites her bottom lip in attempt to fend off the overwhelming emotions. She struggles to push the words out past gritted teeth.
JUNKO: < It's... too late for that. >
CHIBA: < No. >
He shakes his head.
CHIBA: < Never too late. >
He reaches out, patting her cheek.
CHIBA: < Every single day is an opportunity for a new beginning. >
GENRYU: < Chiba-san! Are you gonna help me or what?! >
Chiba lets the words wash over him, then shakes them off.
CHIBA: < You two... be careful. Take care of each other, okay? >
He turns, walking away from them and toward Genryu. Junko calls out to him.
JUNKO: < Chiba-san! >
He turns, looking over his shoulder.
JUNKO: < Thank you. >
With another confused smirk on his face, he offers one final polite nod before turning his full attention to Genryu and the trunk stuck in the door frame. Junko watches as Chiba and Genryu are successful and disappear inside the venue seconds later. The tears begin to flow and she doesn't bother trying to stop them. She turns and Hanako wraps her arms around her, holding her tight. Hanako pets Junko's hair with one hand, gently patting her back with the other before whispering in her ear.
HANAKO: < Junko-chan... it's time to go. >
The floor is cold and wet.
Junko's bare feet touch down, darkness swirls around her.
At the center of the room, a dark pool of liquid, living and breathing. She hears the voices whispering from the darkness at the edges of the room, telling her that she doesn't belong here. Still, she persists, walking to the edge of the pool, looking into it... seeing nothing, not even her reflection in the mirror-like surface below.
"I recognize the challenge you pose, Peter Vaughn."
Junko tilts her head slightly, confused.
"I know that you're a threat."
The darkness below begins to bubble.
"I know... what kind of man you are."
Slowly, something begins to take shape.
"I know you don't take me seriously, you said as much on Fury. You told me that you did your best to turn me into a worthy challenger but I don't think that's what you meant to do. You wanted to manipulate me and get under my skin. You wanted to control me like you did the members of your Cabal... because... you know."
An entity begins to rise from the pool, slowly... steadily.
"You know that I'm the only one that can truly beat you."
It begins to take human form, standing at eye-level with Junko.
"You know that this isn't your standard title defense. You don't get to lose to me and then take the championship right back. That's not how it works this time... and it's not how it will work ever again. If I beat you, I'm the champion... and you don't get to challenge me to a rematch."
The darkness drips away from the figure, revealing human features.
"You don't get to ruin my moment."
Eyes form, staring deep into Junko's own.
"You don't get to do... anything."
Junko raises her hand... and the entity, dripping black, does the same.
"You've stood on top of Thunder Pro Wrestling for a long, long time... you've called it your own and dared anyone who might to come and try to knock you off of your pedestal. To you, I'm just the next in line... but I know that I'm more than that. I know that I have what it takes to become the new International Champion... to become the LAST International Champion that TPW and all of the Thunderamaniacs will ever know."
As the black drips away, the entity's features become clearer. Junko seems unfazed by the revelation that she's standing in front of a picture perfect copy of herself. Without a word, without a single change in demeanor, she stares into the eyes of her reflection, unmoving.
"You're an amazing competitor, Peter Vaughn... you're one of the best in the entire world... and you know that. But the things you've done in Thunder Pro Wrestling, not to mention throughout your career in general, you know that you've never needed to go that far... you've never needed to dig down that deep... but you did, you have... and you've cast a shadow on your soul."
Junko reaches out toward the entity and it does the same.
"However, of all your accomplishments throughout your long and storied career... the most important thing you'll ever do will take place at RetroMania. As you and I battle... as we tumble toward the earth and the atmosphere tries its hardest to burn us up before we make impact, I want you to reflect on everything you've done in Thunder Pro Wrestling up to this point."
Their finger tips touch and reality ripples between them.
"I want you to think about every brick you've laid in its foundation."
There's an audible hum in the room as both Junkos stare at one another, unbothered.
"I want you... to realize... that the last thing you're ever going to do in this company you helped build with your blood, sweat, and tears -- "
Light pierces the entity's chest, bathing Junko's face.
Everything begins to vibrate.
" -- is lose... to Junko Souma."
And then... nothing.
